Confessions of an unemployed twenty something

Fantastical Film Art

2012-02-11T18:25:00.004+03:00

All the works of man have their origin in creative fantasy. What right have we then to depreciate imagination. - Carl Jung

Incredible Lord of the Rings, Hellboy and Pan's Labyrinth concept art from the unbelievably talented Christopher Ulrich and John Howe.

Playlist Lev'ing

2012-02-09T10:39:00.001+03:00

The unicorn has nothing to do with this post. Please click on the laser cat below for musical lev'ing.

Love from iamsilverfox on 8tracks.

M.I.A's 'Bad Girls' is Indeed, Very Bad

2012-02-06T21:49:00.004+03:00

It blows my mind that the new M.I.A track‘Bad Girls’ has made the splash it has. The lyrics are obtuse, the ‘singer’fickle and the video, a crime against the work of scholars like Edward Said andAnwar Abdel Malik.

The song bounces between M.I.A’s crudelyricism - with delights such as ‘live fast, die young, bad girls do it well’and ‘pull me closer if you think you can hang… don’t go screaming if I blow youwith a bang’ – and ludicrous imagery of what I can only assume are meant to beyouth from the Arabian Gulf, hanging out in the desert in bling-adorned thobesand burkas, churning out wheelies whilst M.I.A dangles herself out of thepassenger seat. As they do.

The fact that some people have gone as faras to translate the driving hijabi’s and the singer’s passenger-side cruisingas M.I.A saluting women’s driving rights in the Arabian Gulf is both ridiculousand laughable. We’re talking about the same girl who wants to ‘give war achance’ and caused human rights organisations grief during the end of a 25 yearlong civil war between Sri Lanka’s government and the Tamil Tigers, labellingit naively as genocide.

It’s also the same girl that spoke to theNew York Times about wanting to be ‘an outsider’ whilst munching ontruffle-flavoured French fries and hanging out in her Los Angeles mansion, fundedand secured by her fiancé, and son of the Warner Music Group chief exec. EdgarBronfman, Ben Bronfman. So now we know how she continues to manage recorddeals.

This is also the same woman who indirectlycalled Lady Gaga unattractive & unoriginal. Lady Gaga sold 3 milliondigital copies of her latest album, Born This Way, and is officially the mostpopular personality on Twitter, with over 18 million followers. I’m notsuggesting record sales equal good music, but ‘copying’ a fellow artist’s video(Telephone) and then feigning superiority is typical M.I.A. Spoiled.

The very concept of orientalism is embodiedin the video. The division of us and them, i.e. traditional Khaleeji dress,dangerous stunt driving and desert landscapes versus the heroic ‘Western’ figure,standing up for Arab women’s rights, decked out in men’s & modern clothing– is obvious and horrifying. We have once again given the West the right to‘orientalise’ us. What a shame that so many of my peers appear to have confusedfreedom of expression and artistic liberty with what is so clearly a culturalcatastrophe.

Youcan watch M.I.A’s ‘Bad Girls’ video, here.

Youcan watch a snippet of an interview with late scholar, and my personal hero,Edward Said, here.

Youcan read M.I.A’s PR disaster of an interview, here.

Image via The Hooded Utilitarian.

Sinister Peas & Awesome Internet

2012-01-31T21:55:00.001+03:00

Today I had a conversation with a friendabout how we were both closet pessimists, or what I like to call, ‘sinisterpeas in a pod’. I drew a picture to help illustrate this (see above). Meanwhile, elsewhere on the internets, lots of peopletweeted, Facebooked and blogged links I thought were awesome. Here’s a list:

Crowdfundinggives production companies a run for their stupid money

Gavin Rothery, visual effects manextraordinaire (Moon, 2009), blows my mind with some SpaceDisco

The folks from Blog Critics drew up this niftyinfographic about how awesome life would be if sci-fi films were real(click link at bottom of article)

MGMT’s beautiful animated video for ‘AllWe Ever Wanted Was Everything’

The genius ‘Why We Broke Up Project’ tumblr will make you laughand cry

Scientists tried to freak us out with lastweek’s solar flare business, but it only created stunning photoops, like this one in Sweden

Inconceivable! A ‘The Princess Bride’ remake is in the works,kids!

The @DeathStarPR Twitter accounts cracks usup (and freaks us out) with thispic

Considering a move? I hear Marsand Titan are looking pretty good

JT can thank ThomasEdison for there being any sexy in the first place, The First Kiss and more

Ryan Haysom’s new film, ‘Yellow’, is one towatch, and he’s got this bloggingthing down to a tee

Tweet of the moment goes to random account@whattheffacts, with this gem#JoedeMaggio #MarylinMonroe

I Heart the Internets (Sometimes)

2012-01-20T16:18:00.000+03:00

It’s Friday afternoon, which in Middle East speak translates to Saturday arvo, i.e. the very essence of laziness and indulgence combined. A massive feed of sausages & baked beans and several episodes of ‘ER Mystery’ later, it’s time to either mobilise and, eek!, go outside, or find something else to engross myself in, preferably within the confines of my bed.

Now, as a lover of the internets in all it’s LOL cat glory, I have my tabular favourites that rest comfortingly on the upper ledge of my incredibly dusty Mac screen, waiting for my pop culture thirsty paws to attack and explore. We all have like favourites, no? However, I have been known to participate in social media share-flooding, aka, if you follow my Twitter stream be prepared for an influx of folk mixtapes, indie film reviews, sci-fi poster loving and general rants about the Arab world and it’s consistent state of injustice.

WHAT’S YOUR POINT, REEM? I’ve decided to compile some of my fave places on these complex online galaxies of 16-Bit video compilations and NKOTB dedicated tumblr’s into little blog posts, to save you the suffering of a consistent tweeting/Facebook/tumblr/StumbleUpon/ 8tracks, etc., haemorrhage (in the style of one of the best pop culture destinations on the internets, Flavor Wire).

So, without any further ado, check out what’s made the rounds in my family (i.e. spamming my folks, aunts and cousins via email) over the past few days:

Anonymous lashing out at SOPA inspired shutdown of Megaupload

Incredible: MidEast Tunes – Music for Social Change

A Boston Terrier being TICKLE ATTACKED!

This blog post re identity crises, a la Amin Maalouf & via Roba El Assi’s AndFarAway

You may need your war gear next time you’re at the ATM…

The truth about Qatar’s workforce, revealed

The Monster Machine all set for Arachnaconda!

Beautiful vintage kids literature illustrations: James & the Giant Peach

Five by Five: a unique crowdfunding film project worth supporting

The amazing Luka Lesson with May Your Pen Grace the Page

Find out how many slaves you have working for YOU

Battlestar Galactica 16 Bit game = major sci-fi/geek orgasm

Image: Simply Zesty

Is It The End of the World Yet?

2012-01-14T22:56:00.001+03:00

Hello and Happy (belated) New Year! Here’s hoping all three of my faithful readers have had a joyous break and a positive start to the year prophesised to mark the end of humanity as we know it. Anywho, I’m popping in simply to confirm that a) I am still alive and well (mostly) and b) I haven’t allowed myself the luxury of sinking into the abyss of utter melancholy or depression (thank goodness).

The past couple of months have been incredibly difficult for me. On a professional note, I’ve been pushed both mentally and physically to the point of absolute exhaustion. My experiences have been invaluable and I am grateful for what they have afforded me in both tangible rewards and character building. However, I have also felt an incredible push; to expand, to grow, to develop. It felt like my feet were barely touching the ground and I was required, nay, forced, to keep up or be left behind by the overwhelming, and often daunting, film industry.

Personally, I have undergone some dramatic changes. It has never been easy for me to be me. With fear of sounding like a broken cliché pop record it’s been (and remains) a difficult journey to self-discovery. Understanding what it is that makes me happy, trying to adapt to this fast-paced (Arab, conservative, bizarre-at-times) society without losing my unique identity and strengthening my independence are all issues that I continue to battle with on a daily basis.

In the spirit of the New Year, apocalypse or not, I do continue to count my blessings. I count myself as one of the immensely fortunate few, not only with a roof over my head and food in the fridge, but the indulgence to undertake this life journey. I will continue to explore, succeeding and failing, upholding and disappointing, loving and loathing elements of both my inner workings and my physical reality. But this year, I will learn to be more grateful for what really matters.

Family first. Spiritual peace. Loving sparingly. I will continue to exercise my fierce loyalty and protective nature where applicable. Less bitterness, more joy. Less sarcasm (unless it’s really funny), more sincerity. Less time online and more connecting offline. Less junk food, more green beans. Less shopping, more saving. And so on, but you get the point.

What am I most excited about this year? I’m very sorry, but the first thing that came to mind was ‘The Hobbit’ in December. But asides from hobbits and dwarves, I am looking forward to a new season of festival circuits that I can potentially engage on a whole new level. I am incredibly excited about the prospect of investing myself further in film production experience. I am also looking forward to getting stuck into an event that deserves all the exposure it can get, in TED. Getting back in shape, getting back into the kitchen, spending more time with my beautiful family (and my dog), living and loving myself and my life.

This is 2012’s challenge*. I’m ready.

*I will also be building an apocalypse shelter, but that's a whole other blog post.

Image: BizzaroComics

I Miss Me

2011-10-18T21:16:00.001+03:00

I haven't blogged since July. I didn't think I cared until about 20 minutes ago, when I found myself sitting in my car, in the dark, answering work emails. So what, you say? I'd been there for half an hour and I was parked outside my home.

Who am I?!

I love a good day's work. There is nothing quite like the feeling of productivity. I have no issues with late hours, bosses.. even chaos has its highs. But up until a few months ago, I was a different person. I was someone who valued work, but praised my morals about putting family and general wellbeing first. I put my loved ones first.

I feel like I've forgotten who I was. Actually no, that's a lie. I dont think I even knew who I was to begin with. And now I feel like a jerk for how wimpy that sounds, but it's true. Im strong and I soldier on, but inside, I often feel empty. When surrounded with friends and those close to me, I forget this emptiness. When I am alone again, I feel unfulfilled, down.. bored?

"Take some time to find yourself."

What does that even mean? And why does everyone insist on this being a solo journey? I am the first to admit that I can get carried away with all the noise and 'excitement', the trivial matters of our daily lives which consume our very being. But why does 'self-discovery' need to happen alone? Indulge me for a moment: the foundation of creationism? Adam & Eve. Noah's ark? Pairs. Time? Day & Night. Stars and Planets? The sun and the moon. Condiments? Salt & pepper. Music? Sonny and Cher, Ike and Tina, Bob and Janis. Love? Man & Wife (or whatever other combination, but you get the point).

I don't even know what point Im trying to make.

I know Im tired and feeling vulnerable and a little lost. Im sick and tired of being accommodating and understanding. I wish I could just be grateful and move on but Im angry about too many things and I dont want to let go.

I miss the old me. And that's all I have to say about that.

What Would Alexander Supertramp Do?

2011-07-25T21:49:00.002+03:00

One of the things I love best is listening to people talk about their childhoods. The smallest details thrill me. I can almost taste the crispy bacon sandwiches, hear mums raise their voices over suspicious smoke-infused clothing, visualise the garish neon of a 70s wild child and suffer a broken heart with stories of broken homes. I suppose it isn’t strange really, especially with my love of story telling and the way I tend to immerse myself in music, literature, film and most importantly people’s lives. I've always partially lived in my own dream world. I also have a thing for names. It’s always easier to picture a Frank, Julia or a Steve than simply 'mum', 'cousin' or 'nan'.

Personally, I had a good childhood. It wasn’t a fairy tale childhood, no. There weren’t any tree houses or playing in the mud. Even my teenage years were rather tranquil. Sure I had my share of mischief, but there were no drugs, or doors slammed, cigarettes smoked or attempted runaways. With fear of sounding ungrateful, I sometimes I feel like I missed out and maybe that’s why I bathe in the glow of other people’s childhoods. Don’t get me wrong, I was – and remain – incredibly fortunate. But I wonder if sometimes, and particularly in Arab societies, what we have and own, what material goods, financial security and the like, dominate the things that really matter.

That may be why sometimes I feel like a bit of a hypocrite. I have a grudge against materialism. Yet I enjoy it and I cannot live without it. What is excessive and what is necessity has become a blurred line, for many asides from myself I’m sure. The extremes of romanticism and gluttonous indulgence insult my intelligence and emotions. Trying to find a happy medium is both exhausting and exhilarating, and I am privileged to even have the option to do so. Meanwhile, I remain torn as to why I still question myself and my life. But again, I both envy and scorn the carefree. It's a perplexing situation, this. This being growing up. Or at least that's what I think 'this' is. What do you reckon?

Social Media is an Art

2011-06-16T16:17:00.001+03:00

The misconception that social and digital worlds are not creative is absolutely ridiculous. Since starting work at a film institute, I’ve pretty much copped slack every other day for being the social media strategist. “Oh, so you’re the Facebook girl.” Numbskull.

The ‘operators’ of the online world are artists in their own right. Recently, in a discussion about work ethics and attitudes with some colleagues, I confessed a certain distaste for misplaced sensitivities. This is your place of work. Other than the necessary amounts of praise and recognition, a harmonious manner of cooperation and the like, I firmly believe in limited niceties, and quite frankly, ass kissing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being nice to your coworkers - on the contrary. An amiable atmosphere, a supportive one, is essential for high levels of productivity and morale. But as they say, too much of a good thing is a bad thing and overt niceties do tend to lead to lines being crossed, relationships expanding beyond the appropriate lines and eventually, disagreements and the ‘s’ word: sensitivities.

The response was: “We’re artists, we make films, we work with students, we need to be emotional and sensitive.” Right. Cos managing a community that is still fairly sheltered, unexposed to the fragility of online relationships, building and maintaining said relationships, putting yourself ‘out there’ amidst the scrutiny and general mercilessness of the internet is an easy job. And requires no emotion.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this, other than that I am sick of our jobs being taken for granted, labelled as ‘easy’ or that we’re constantly thought of us uncreative, emotionless, without any knowledge of culture, emotion or art. We ARE artists. And without the magic WE weave, the internet would be one massive hole of aimless wanderers.

On that note, I’d like to share my all time favourite TED talk, featuring a guy I’ve spoken about countless times before and that has inspired my love and exploration of emotion on the internet, Jonathan Harris:

Opening image courtesy of digital artist Jer Thorp.

So You Think You're Depressed

2011-06-13T13:33:00.001+03:00

I’ve done a lot of moaning recently about my current state of emotions, which frankly, is rather dismal. The issues range from work to home related stresses, relationship woes to fitness regime frustrations and so on, and so forth. The past couple of months have been nothing short of a roller-coaster and if I was going to be honest, most of the ride has indulged those horrific, heart-in-mouth dips.

I realise my blog posts have been rare and somewhat negative/pessimistic of late, but if I was going to be completely honest, it’s only because I can’t bring myself to feign interest in social media trends, or marketing scandals right now. I’m still struggling to make it through everyday.

It’s a constant challenge from the moment I wake up. Another day, I think to myself when I open my eyes; what’s different about it? Nothing really. Maybe I should wear my new top, or try some smokey eye makeup? Hmm. No, not really bothered. Ill just chuck my jeans on and steamroll through.

I get to work; hello, how are you? Did you watch the video I sent through? Oh my God, yes, it was brilliant. Well done! Inside, my heart is physically hurting. Everything feels so detached from what I’m actually feeling. Even as I write this I’m struggling to hold back the tears.

Shall we go to lunch? Sure, although I really should stick to my half-marathon training diet. But I don’t. I indulge in a curry, butter naan, a mango lassi. It’s ok, I think to myself, plenty of time to train. Muscles are like a sponge, right? They’ll stretch right back to what they’re meant to be. Meanwhile, my jeans feel tighter, I feel uglier, I feel unhealthy. But that moment of satisfaction is all I have.

I listen to other people’s problems. 'I can’t find a job, I don’t know what I’m going to do, I don’t want to have to go home. My parents won’t leave me and my fiancee alone, they’re suffocating us, pushing us to early marriage.' I listen and I engross myself in the issues. I genuinely want to help, but meanwhile these things only help to distract me from all the negativity in my life.

Today I had a smoke with a colleague. I should not be smoking. I said to her, this weekend was fun. And I meant it. A music video premiere, a little night out, time spent with family, a night at the theater, being on a film set for the first time in my life! Wow, said my colleague, sounds rather special. It was. So why am I so unhappy? I asked. What is wrong with me? Why can other people be happy here?

Maybe you want more from your life than other people do.

Oh.

Is it bad to want more?

I am confined by the cages of society, culture and expectation. I am an alien in the country in which I was mostly raised. The way I dress, speak, act, eat, engage, write and express myself are all scrutinized and condemned.

Don’t be dramatic, say a family member. You are blessed. I know this. So why am I still displeased? Is there an art to appreciation? Do I need to take a yoga class? Am I asking too much, to experience life wholly, as I believe it was intended?

I am a fifth culture child, if there is such a thing. I do not belong in my country of birth, nor to that of my parents. I do not belong to the country in which I was raised, or the one in which I came into my own person. I am unacceptable to all, yet bound by them all.

Is this what they call depression? Someone I spoke to recently said that step one of overcoming any inner darkness is to stop denial and move into the light. If so, then here it is: I am utterly depressed. But I will come through, because I have so much I want to share. So much I want to see. So much I want to learn and so, so much love to give.

There is a stigma in this part of the world, directly related to the taboo of speaking out on depression/emotional exhaustion. As with some other cultures, depression in the Arab world is considered a failure. In some cases it is deemed laughable, a joke. Depressed? What do you mean you’re depressed? Go out with your friends, or go shopping or something. Have we failed that miserably as parents? No, mum, dad. I’m okay. I’m just being dramatic.

Wait, no I’m not.

I’m okay really. Or I will be. Im not a broken mess and I didn’t write this for pity. I am very strong and capable. I believe publishing this may come back to haunt me but for me to soldier on and rise above this, I needed for someone to hear what I had to say. I wrote it because I know there are others who feel like I do. Caged. We won’t feel like this for long, I promise you.

That’s all from me for now.

Dedicated to the memory of the one person who could have understood me. I only discovered Edward Said a few days ago. It turns out he died in 2003. What a devastating loss for the Arab region and the world at large. May you rest in peace.

Image courtesy of www.cartoonstock.com

Expectations & the Cultural Divide

2011-05-05T12:28:00.003+03:00

I used to think that it was the age gap that created the severe miscommunication between my generation and those which precede us. Increasingly, I am starting to feel that within my own society, and more so within my own family, it is the cultural divide that has created this glaring black hole of misunderstanding and despair. Fairly dramatic, I know, but it is undeniable that it is ‘friction’ like this that shapes our personalities and in effect, our lives.

This post immerses itself in topics a lot bigger than I am, or than I could ever tackle. It’s incredibly humbling and daunting in turn. The obvious question here is, however, how I could fail to identify with my own society? With my own family?

The answer is, I do, but I don’t.

As I move on with my life, growing within my career, my relationships and experiences, I find myself feeling more alienated than ever before. I question this feeling often - am I creating the barrier? Am I rebelling against societal expectations needlessly? Is this what everyone tends to feel during what’s strongly considered as an ‘experimental’ stage of life? If so, then is this experimentation (cultural, societal, social, etc) going to forever be frowned upon by the more culturally bound?

I know all of these questions and theories are relative, especially in seeing how unique mine, and every individual’s, personal journey, background and societal draw points are. But this is exactly my point - is this integration of cultures, this broad ‘world-tasting’ creating stronger, more distinguished personalities? Or is it simply succeeding in further separating us from the world we were first born into, creating a divide that is often painful to bridge?

I love my family and I love my culture. I can’t be grateful enough for the good life I’ve been granted through their hard work, and duly, they’ve instilled their values and work ethic in my siblings and I. Jordan will always be home to me, in some respect. I will always have a place to call home. However, this is also how I feel about Australia; it gave me my education, it gave me life experiences that have largely shaped who I am today. It gave me love, friendship and laughter. I also owe a lot of this to Qatar, the country that witnessed most of my childhood, the United Arab Emirates, where I was born, and all the countries I have been privileged enough to experience during my life thus far.

Is it not our personal duty to this world in which we live, to take what is beautiful to us and embrace it? Is it unrealistic to expect this concept to be understood by the culturally constrained? If so, until when?

More and more, I feel like a citizen of the world. I know you cringed, but this is truly the state in which I find myself. I don’t identify with one culture and one belief. I identify with many and none simultaneously. This is both a blessing and a curse. I ask many questions, many of which, I fear, will never be answered. I don’t think anything terrifies me quite as much as this realisation.

The Tired Monster

2011-04-26T11:17:00.000+03:00

I’ve been racking my brain for well over a month now, trying to get a substantial blog post out for all you lovely lot to critique, love or even ignore, but obviously, to no avail. I know it’s not something any of you one post a week-ers or super spouting social media gurus will ever admit, and I know it may not be what the masses like to hear, but here it is: this is hard. And like my friend above, I've been tackled by the Tired Monster.

In my last post, I talked about life experiences, and going through a rough patch; life has served me one of those steaming, smelly ones, albeit a large one. Well, life has done it again, this time in my culturally discerning mind; and although I have something close to an infinite amount of ideas floating around my currently cheese for brains, I just can’t seem to get anything out.

Im sorry, but this is the reality of it. Eventually, you must get run down?

I spent the last 16 months writing for everyone. This included several print (GASP) publications I worked for (try and spot me), a website, then another website, then three more, a guest post here and there, only for the results of my frazzled mind to end up on Confessions.

Now multiply the mess of those 16 months by a stupidly large number, and you have the volume of work that I’ve had to produce over the last three weeks at my new job. Don’t get me wrong; I am absolutely loving it. As I also mentioned in my last post, I now have the opportunity to tap into a niche that people have either completely overseen or misjudged as unfruitful - that of the role of social media in the Arab world (overthrowing dictators aside), within an educational and even culturally binding context.

However, I now feel that so much of my energy is invested in my current position that I either a) don’t have anything leftover for my own blog, b) I’ve already produced similar material for work. There, I’ve said it. I’m not superwoman. I’m tired. But because I love the people that read this blog (all six of you) I want to talk to you.

Help me! How do you find inspiration when you're run down? Do you find that discussing the same material for work helps or hinders production for your personal projects? How do you schedule your posts, if at all?

I’m looking forward to your recommendations and suggestions. I’ll be the one trying not to fall asleep on the treadmill. Happy Belated Easter (to those of you who celebrate, please do not go off at me if you don’t believe in Jesus, thank you, Amen).

Image courtesy: Troy Janisch

A New Voice

2011-04-17T23:26:00.000+03:00

It’s been a while since I’ve written a post. There are many reasons for my absence, the most prominent being that I once again felt like I had lost my way for a moment. So many changes and events have collided, making the past month or so nothing short of one of the most dramatic in my life. Now I know what you’re thinking, but no, I’m sorry, I didn’t win the lottery, so stop with your cheeky smiles. But seriously, one car accident, a banking catastrophe and a ‘shoved in the deep end’ situation later, and I think I’m back on track. I’ve also managed to land and start a new job amidst all the aforementioned drama, and that’s what I’d really like to talk to you about.

I’ve been utilising various social media platforms to elevate my online profile for a while now, and I owe a lot to the internet. In effect, it’s no surprise that my new gig finds me organising social and online content strategy, and within the film industry no less. Just because I’ve always been frank about my life, my expectations and desires with this blog’s audience, I say this; I feel blessed. The position this new role has put me in I believe can finally bridge the gap between where I was and where I intend to be, i.e. working an exciting, yet unfulfilling journalistic role and educating/consulting re the Arab world, through social/online content (preferably in the UK, if you’re listening Amnesty/BBC/anyone else, ever).

This isn’t going to be a long post, but I just wanted to kick things off once again, yet with a new tone of conversation. My role will be to market to a majorly Arab audience. The material is widely international, with the main language of communication being English, of course. The ‘product’? Film. The goal? To act as advocates and the mouthpiece of local and regional filmmakers whilst engaging with an international audience. My strategy? To break down the barriers, the cliches, the stereotypes and the communication issues amassed over decades of media bias between this region and the world at large. Or, at the very least, I’m going to try.

What do you think? How does speaking and engaging one specific geographical/ethnic demographic differ from that of the other? How would YOU go about gaining an untrusting audience’s attention? Better yet, what about broaching an untapped social audience? Will film, as a language which is regarded equal to music in universality, be able to bring together an audience united in its passion for the big screen?

Music: The Universal Language

2011-03-19T21:32:00.001+03:00

In light of everything that's happening around the world, be it the current situation in Bahrain, Libya or Japan amongst others, it's always important to feel like one has freedom of choice in at least a single element of their lives. Please do not mistake my statement, or this post, for belittling these harrowing events. On the contrary, with talk of the inhumanity of the internet intensifying and people in different regions of the world feeling increasingly alienated, it is important to extract whatever joy one can from life. There is often one constant that can bring us back together. To me, this is the universal language of music. In effect, I am revisiting a fun, old post, in the hopes that this will put a smile on your face and remind you that no matter what, music in any shape or form remains a global freedom.

I hate when people are pretentious in regards to their musical choices. Everyone I know has a member of the 'music police' constantly patrolling their musical plains in an effort to 'amend' their preferred tunage. Unfortunately, I seem to have befriended several members of the musical riot police and tend to pay the price continuously. Whenever an opportunity presents itself for an interjection, and without fail, I end up sounding like the union leader for alternative music rights. Let me tell you a little about my musical personality.

I’m an indie/rock kid through and through, i.e. I enjoy bands that play their own music, write their own lyrics, with wardrobes that resemble that of a lumberjack's and facial hair to battle Lennon's circa lie-in days. Well, not necessarily that latter bit, but you know what I mean. The indie music scene in itself is a source of comfort to me, with its lovely laid back sounds, snuggly flannel and rolling meadows.

This musical influence is very much a result of an elective I was fortunate enough to take during second year uni about power and war in ’60s America. My professor, a renowned leftist and public speaker, Anthony Ashbolt, was a legend and had visited Haight-Ashbury at the height of the hippy movement, and often told us of his incredible adventures; meeting some of the most incredible political and educational figures. He always had a bit of a nostalgic look about him whenever he reminisced. The best part of that class, was the music.

The subject hours were split into three classes over the course of each week – two seminars and one video session. Said session was in a building, tucked at the back of the uni, with a dodgy, low entrance, surrounded by enormous foliage (if you’ve ever been to Australia, you’d understand the enormous context of which I speak) and a rickety, wooden patio. Let’s just say it set the stage for Nam, protests and Woodstock. The soundtrack to each video moved me to tears. I would sit next to my equally indie obsessive mate, and we’d whisper to each other about how ‘rad’ all the music was ‘man’. Watching Blair Witch Project-like accounts of the war, the sit-ins, the world changing speeches to the soundtrack of musical Gods; that class opened my eyes up to a lot more than just the arrogance of politics.

Cue my insatiable love affair with Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Jimi Hendrix, the Creedence Clearwater Revival, Santana, Janis Joplin and countless other legends, who made that time, arguably the most prolific in music history. But what entails musical integrity?

Believe me, I’ve done my fair share of belittling nerve grating acts; enter The Saturday's, JLS, Willow Smith or any tween sensations, boy/girl bands that are personally nowhere near my cup of tea. However, can we really class one piece of music as ‘better’ than another due to personal taste? Now, surely there are different levels to this argument. I'm not about to draw comparisons between Justin Beiber and Michael Jackson, or Girls Aloud and The Supremes. Hell, you can’t even compare Girls Aloud to The Spice Girls, but that’s a different story altogether. In the sense of inter-genre comparison, however, where is the line drawn? I wouldn’t know where to begin comparing guitar heroes like Slash, Santana and Jimi Hendrix.

The question is, when did genre allegiance or even image, become such a critical part of musical enjoyment? Even the self-confessed 60s kid that I am, I adore all different types of artists and performances. From Daft Punk to The Gorillaz, Eric Clapton to Jay-Z, and more – I enjoy lots of everything. Who is anyone to tell me – or you – that we should do otherwise?

Personal expression, freedom of speech; these are privilege's we are all guilty of taking for granted. With all the chaos and sorrow in the world, personal expression remains protected through music. Listen to what makes you happy, what inspires you and what helps you through another day. What's your music of choice?

You are 'Here'

2011-03-07T17:03:00.001+03:00

*The world is such a small place. This time last year, I was feasting on chicken pad Thai with my beautiful Geordie colleague Laura, in one of the dodgiest** joints in town. Fast forward almost twelve months and things couldn’t be more different. We’ve just come back from the same Thai place, but Laura’s only here on holiday. She’s packed up and moved to Australia.

Yet there we sat, her and I, over basil prawns and mango coolers, roles completely reversed. She’s now living in my home, I’ve been trying to move to hers (the UK) and our meeting ground is here. Most of you will know that ‘here’ is Doha, Qatar for me. For those of you who still don’t… pay more attention. And read this:

Qatar

[kah-tahr, kuh-tahr]

An emirate on the Persian Gulf; British protectorate until the termination of UK treaty in 1971, 22,000 sq. km in size, capital: Doha.

To be honest, if you don’t know where/what Qatar is by now, I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under. Asides from the peninsula’s recent 2022 World Cup conquest (deal with it and move on), you may also have heard of the recent Harrods acquisition via Qatar Holdings, the investment arm of the state’s sovereign wealth fund, the Qatar Investment Authority (see: fancy cars clamped outside Harrods). Qatar’s investments in the UK are many and hefty; if you’re interested, look it up.

If you follow my blog at all you’ll have noticed that I have mixed emotions about life here. It’s not easy and it’s not my first choice, but it’s the most logical and realistically, the most career- oriented decision I could have made. Please find below other lovely perks of living in Qatar:

1. Non existent income tax – I make what the average young professional would in the UK, the only difference is, my salary is tax free. Furthermore, Qatar is home to the third largest gas reserve and a GDP per capita that ranks amongst the highest worldwide. This should typically translate to a higher quality of life.

2. Gas is cheap – I currently work a mere 10km from home. However, due to largely unyielding circumstances (mainly the 45 degree+ weather, 10 months of the year) walking this distance would be akin to a suicide mission. Although driving here can be a bit of a nightmare, seeing as the average family holds a ratio of people to cars of 4:4, expense is not an issue. Being the expansive gas reserve that it is, the commodity is cheap as chips. I fill up my car weekly (I drive a 2006 KIA Sorento) for 50 Qatari riyals. That’s the equivalent of GBP 8, even in light of the current unrest in North Africa.

3. Geographically adept – I love Australia. It’s pretty much my favourite place to be in the whole world (bar London). However, Australia is pretty much the definition of ‘middle of nowhere’ and travel isn’t easy when you happen to live in woop woop (see: Aussie slang). Qatar on the other hand is conveniently located smack dab in the middle of the world (imagine the earth was flat, pretty much the middle). A mere 7 hour flight from the furthest European location, it’s a lot easier getting around the Northern hemisphere from here than it is from down under.

4. Sunshine – I forgot what rain feels like. Now, I don’t quite know if that’s a good or bad thing, but I suppose you always want what you can’t have. I do love the sunshine, and Qatar provides ample amounts of vitamin D pretty much the whole year round. Winter brings a refreshing chill at a crisp 10 degrees, with most expatriates still frequenting much of the country’s beaches/pools at the coolest of temperatures.

This post initially continued on to discuss the issues that have risen regarding the 2022 WC concerns. I’m not going to bore you with that because it’s all been said before, and well, it’s in eleven years, so we’ll deal with it all later. For now, I’d like some interaction. Leave me a comment introducing yourself, where you are, how you get there and where in the world you’d like to be right now if you could choose. In the words of Lara Bingle, “So where the bloody hell are ya?” (see: awesome tourism campaign).

*the feet in the photograph are NOT the author's. I repeat, NOT.

**most delicious

Jesus Was An Englishman

2011-02-28T17:22:00.003+03:00

Or was he?

It never fails to blow my mind that what I consider to be general demographics is often completely alien to others. In saying this, I’m not trying to be pretentious at all – on the contrary, I am incredibly interested to find out why this kind of information is not widespread knowledge. Oh, wait, I’ll tell you why; because the media can be viciously biased and consumers have become comfortable in their classification of individuals, nations, religions, etc. We won’t go into that now for now though.

My Jordanian heritage allows me the luxury (yes, I do consider it as such) of extracting the best from both worlds – I am also Australian; I haven’t lived in either country for longer then a spell of eight years at one time. In social settings, I often use the irritating term ‘citizen of the world’ to describe myself when asked the inevitable question, “where are you from?” and often surprise said conversationalist when pressed to reveal my background (p.s. thank you Michael Bay for putting us on the map, albeit looking slightly dafter than we are).

Cue the list of nerve grating questions:

Scenario #1 – “But you speak English so well!”

Response: “Err, you're joking, right?”

However, I bet you didn’t know that the entire Jordanian royal family are graduates of Sandhurst Military Academy? I bet you also didn’t know that the late King, Hussein bin Talal (one of the greatest military and political leaders of our time) was once married to an English woman, Toni Gardiner, who retains her title as a princess of the Hashemite Kingdom. How about the fact that His Highness, King Abdullah II, the reigning ruler of Jordan, is actually one of the four children Gardiner bore?

HH is a graduate of Oxford University, lived most of his life, up until his crowning in ’99 in the UK, speaks in a true blue English accent (much like his mother, naturally) and actually struggled through his first few months as King when addressing the public in the Arabic language, due to his Western upbringing (he is also a massive Star Trek fan and was cast in an episode – see pic). Still surprised I speak such good English for someone of Jordanian heritage?

Scenario #2 – “You were raised Christian?!”

Response: “Now I know you're joking.. right?!”

Luke 2:4-7

"So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son."

Let’s all pretend we are believers for the sake of this argument (my beliefs are somewhat helter skelter at the moment); Jesus was born in what was then known as Palestine. Have you seen a map lately? The Hashemite Kingdom borders Palestine. Jesus was not from the Bronx, neither was he born in Buckingham palace. Jesus was from what is now widely – and geographically incorrectly – referred to as the ‘Middle East’.

Mark 1:9

"At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee, and John baptised him in the Jordan River."

Seriously? Still not ringing any bells for you? Furthermore, Jordan is an incredibly popular religious pilgrimage destination, with other Biblical sites such as Mount Nebo, where Moses was said to have viewed the Land of Canaan annually drawing a footfall in the thousands. In the early 1950′s the Christian Jordanian population stood at over 18% of a 6 million strong figure – a considerable number, relatively speaking. The number has now decreased to just under 4% due to the government’s kind approach to refugees with mixed backgrounds, entering the Kingdom from neighbouring countries.

I could go on really – I haven’t even told you where I currently live/work, but I’ll save that one for later and leave you to digest this for a while. I still don’t understand why I know more about everyone else than they do about me. I’m not smarter than you are, but clearly I invest more time with my curiousities. Give us a search, we really are an interesting people. However, try and base your judgements on facts rather than stereotypes. Better yet, ask someone, like me!

I’ll tell you all about Australia later, although somehow, I doubt you’ll need this much of an introduction. Strange, really.

CC licensed image: Flickr user EvelynGiggles

Beware of Cairo... and the Daily Mail

2011-02-20T15:45:00.002+03:00

Today, I did something incredibly stupid; I read the Daily Mail. Amongst the trash that is synonymous with the tabloid, was an article by Angella Johnson about how she was sexually assaulted during her time reporting from Tahrir Square in Cairo. CBS reporter, Lara Logan, also recently made a similar claim of sexual assault, hence Johnson coming forward. Let me tell you why although I sympathise with Johnson, I also think she's full of shit.

I had never heard of Johnson before reading this article. My research revealed a colourful history of critical reporting, such as her latest MailOnline offerings featuring Dree Hemmingway’s fashion savvy, a poke around Roman Abramovich’s home and a riveting look into a teen bride’s marriage to a man 33 years her senior. Like I said, critical reporting.

Because I’m fair, I did come across pieces of Johnson’s that were more substantial than the aforementioned drivel, but considering the one-sided story she was responsible for me reading today, I shouldn’t really give a toss.

Before I go on, I have to make one point very, very clear: in no way do I condone the sexual abuse of women, or any other form of exploitation for that matter. The subject of sexual abuse is an issue that is very close to my heart and one I actively try and combat through humbly contributing to several charities across the world; two of which are UK based. My qualms lie within the casual manner within which Johnson categorises her experiences in the Arab world.

“From my previous experiences in the Arab world,” Johnson writes, “I have accepted that a minor level of sexual harassment comes with the territory.”

I’ve lived in the Arab world for a fairly large chunk of my life. I’ve experienced life in both the Levant (Jordan) and the Gulf (Qatar and the United Arab Emirates). I have also, as Johnson claims to have done, travelled extensively, having been privileged enough to travel the world from a young age, and continuing to do so throughout my adult life.

Part of an Egyptian campaign to combat sexual harassment

Yes, sexual harassment does indeed exist in the Arab world. I’ve been leered at when walking down the street and followed by silly teenagers in Land Cruisers, trying to throw their telephone numbers at me, through their passenger seat windows. I hate the lift in my office block, and the lack of social etiquette that results in men sometimes blatantly staring me down, all the way up to the 11th floor. My patience has run out on several occasions and I’ve let loose with a serious telling off, to which I am always inundated with apologies or a shocked expression. I have a voice and I am not afraid to use it.

However, my qualms lie within Johnson’s generalisation of the Arab world –and only the Arab world - as a dangerous place for women, highlighting very unfortunate (and I’m sorry, but questionable) experiences in Morocco, Qatar, South Africa and Turkey (I may need to send her a map of the Arab region regarding SA and Turkey).

Turkey and South Africa are not part of the Arab World

In my 7+ years living in Wollongong, in southern New South Wales, Australia, I have also felt uncomfortable on various occasions. I was grabbed by the arm and shaken by a student who ‘wanted a kiss’ on my very own university grounds – I believe that classifies as physical assault. I have also been flashed by a mob of men on bikes, who terrorised my route home from university; an experience I can only class as rather terrifying, and quite disgusting.

I’ve also, not unlike Johnson, had my bum grabbed, my breasts brushed and my doorbell rung at all hours of the night in a series of different circumstances. As a student, visiting London in 2003, I also faced similar circumstances, where a man in the very hotel we were staying at, requested photographs with me and tried to hold my hand, accosting me.

Going back to the article in question, Johnson quotes a statement from a friend regarding her confrontations in Tahrir Square, and in support of her claims against the Arab region saying,

“In their minds, you and Lara were just two “infidel whores”, the kind of sexually liberated women they see in films and videos…”

Let’s recap: first, Johnson staples the Arab world with a harassment clause, and then, continues to categorise all the men in Tahrir Square - and thanks to the association, in the region at large - as ignorant animals, in awe of Western culture. This is the same Western culture that right wing, inbred trash like the Daily Mail, are adamant that the Arab region, and the entire world really, are so keen to adopt. Get over yourselves.

Part of the UK Anti Street Harassment campaign

I feel sorry for Johnson, and her sheltered friend. I am sorry she experienced what she did in Tahrir Square; physical, sexual and verbal abuse of any kind is never okay. However, instead of taking her article and really transforming it into the ‘women in journalism’ cause that it is, she has made this a regional issue, pinpointing the Arab world as a place which is unsafe for women.

For the more informed of you, this article is clearly just another one of the Daily Mail’s disgusting ploys to continue to breed false British nationalism amongst the insular conservatives within your communities. However, it is this brand of ‘journalism’ that creates and harbours fear of the unknown and the Arab world specifically, amongst said communities, making the Gulf and Levant ‘taboo’ regions.

Which is such a shame, because they have a lot more to offer than a bum grope, Angella Johnson. I see a lot more in England and Australia than the unacceptable abuse I, and doubtless many others like myself, have suffered. It is a shame that to Angella Johnson, the Arab world is merely a sexual assault warning region, where she can’t even get a bloody gin and tonic.

Sexual harassment knows no boundaries in terms of nationality, location, stature or even gender. It is a disgrace that it has been narrowed down to such limited understanding.

What a shame.

Side note: I was in Egypt only a week before the protests began. I was not treated like a ‘piece of meat’. Like anywhere else in the world, certain areas of the country are to be avoided, like peak traffic in Cairo. The people of Egypt are warm, generous and hospitable and I would go back in a heart beat.

Egyptian Emergency Update

2011-01-31T16:17:00.002+03:00

An image from the Tahrir Square protest last night

These are the developments from the ground in Egypt since last night;

Breaking News: Six Al Jazeera journalists are currently under military custody. You can follow Al Jazeera's UAE correspondent, Dan Nolan's blog updates, here or watch the Al Jazeera LIVE feed, here. Nolan is currently under military custody with the remaining journos. UPDATE 3.46pm local Cairo time: the journos have since been released, however, their camera equipment remains confiscated by authorities.
top reporters on the ground to follow include Al Jazeera man Evan Hill who was recently joined by colleague, Gregg Carlstrom. They are updating the AJE audioBoo channel whenever possible/necessary. Please click on the RSS feed above to listen. It is unclear wether Hill or Carlstrom are amongst the journos under military custody.
a 'million man march' has been organised for tomorrow, February 1st, in commemoration of one week since the start of the January 25th protests. All train activity has been halted ahead of the march. More details on the march, here.
recognisable efforts have been made by governments worldwide to send for tourists/expatriates to leave Cairo for their respective countries, most notably Jordan, Tunisia (although arguable in terms of safety) and Australia. Prime Minister Julia Gillard has announced the availability of chartered flights for those wishing to leave Egypt. If you know of Australians looking to go home, please pass this number onto them, +61 26261 3305. Click here, for more details.
sources from Al Jazeera have issued the following IP addresses as alternatives to bypass the government telecoms shutdown: 128.242.240.52 [Twitter], 69.63.189.34 [Facebook].
official word from Israel shouts the support of the Egyptian regime and pleads with the US to do the same in order to 'restore peace'. More information on that and other topics related to the events on the ground, please go to BikyaMasr.
for more information on how the telecommunications holocaust actually succeeded during certain periods over the last two days, Ariel Schwartz explains, via Fast Company.
follow Cairo-based journalist Sarah Carr's Flickr feed, for creative photographic updates on the situation on the ground, here.
if you are in London today, watch out for the protests in support of the Egyptian uprising, 4-6pm, at the Egyptian Consulate, No.2 Lowndes St.
watch updates from Al Jazeera's Youtube channel, including the ElBaradei mobbing in Tahrir Square last night, here.

More updates as they occur. Our thoughts are with the journalists currently under siege and doing the impossible to bring us the latest news from a persevering Egypt.

An Egyptian Emergency

2011-01-30T17:24:00.001+03:00

Due to my residing in the Middle East (Qatar), several people have questioned me for more recent updates to what's happening in Egypt right now. The following is some of the latest news, some on the ground, and mainly from Al Jazeera staff, currently doing a brilliant job of keeping the public informed in spite of their broadcast HQ in Cairo being shut down late last night. Please also find links to some interesting articles, surfacing as a result of the telecommunications holocaust the Egyptian government has enforced:

the RSS feed above will continue to relay audio boos live from the Al Jazeera team in Cairo. Journalist Evan Hill is currently updating these broadcasts whenever necessary/possible. You can also follow Hill's Flickr feed for photographic updates, here.
Al Jazeera is continuously updating its local Doha broadcast channels with Breaking News whenever necessary/possible. You can watch these updates LIVE, right here.
fear of bigger clashes/bloodshed have been relayed to the Director of Research at Brookings Doha Centre, Shadi Hamid, as informed by a figure in the Muslim Brotherhood. Hamid was speaking earlier on AJE about the situation.
the role of social media in the debacle, including microblogging and other broadcast channels - such as AJE's use of audioBoo - have been highly debated all over the news. CNN, AJE and others have relied heavily on the use of Facebook, Twitter, bloggers and the like to receive additional info on the ground in Egypt. Mathew Ingram speaks out on GIGAom.

Al Jazeera have released hotline numbers for all those needing a direct line to the network, with information on the progress of the situation. Individuals are requested to call: +97444896192 or +97444896190.

More updates as I receive them; keep your eyes peeled for the audioBoo updates. Shout out to all the journalists braving the increasingly horrific situation in Egypt right now. God bless.

The Thunder from Down Under

2011-01-29T23:32:00.001+03:00

Aspire Tower and Khalifa Stadium moments before the game

In spite of the AFC's ridiculous choice, opting for an Uzbek referee (Australia beat Uzbekistan 6 - nil in their last match) and the vuvuzela-competing, 'Honda' emblazoned plastic tubes, a brilliant night of football has marked the end of the Asian Football Cup, here in Doha. Playing to the beat of over 37,000 spectators' chants, the Socceroos and Japan took to the pitch for 120 minutes of pure excitement.
The game was tight throughout, with both teams treading cautiously for the majority of the first half, and Japan finally turning up the heat in the second half. Several players stood out in terms of performance, including Australian midfielder Matt McKay and Japan's saviour, goalie Eiji Kawashima who saved Japan from endless Australian attacks. Galatasaray midfielder Harry Kewell also put on a good show, but sadly missed several opportunities to score, one of which was a wide open Japanese goal.

The atmosphere was electric at Khalifa Stadium. With one lucky goal at the 119th minute, I tip my hat to Japan, but am proud to say, this was an Australian game through and through. Congratulations to the Blue Samurai and major kudos to the beautiful Socceroos; they really did bring "the thunder from down under."

Originality is... a by-product of Sincerity

2011-01-27T17:11:00.011+03:00

Earlier this week I experienced what was probably the roughest day of the year so far. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened - I mean, no ridiculous parking tickets, I didn’t spill coffee all over my jeans and there weren’t any BBM battles over which friend was ignoring whom. No, all of those had happened earlier in the week, but I suppose it was the accumulation of it all that resulted in that remarkably shitty day.

At the forefront of this little mess was once again (sorry) the issue of my job search. 2010 was markedly the year of trying to make things happen remotely for myself. A long distance relationship, international job search, training for overseas competitions, traveling for magazine articles, desperately saving to go abroad, and so on.

It’s been a bittersweet 12 months and to be honest, it didn’t end the way I had expected it to. I kept setting what I now realise were unrealistic timeframes for all my projects. “In a month Ill get my website up and email every international media organisation my resume and a showreel and a minutes plan of how I’m going to take over the world,” and other like scenarios.

Now although there’s nothing wrong with setting yourself ambitious goals, reaching for the stars and all that Care Bear crap, there is plenty wrong with not giving yourself credit for what you’ve already achieved and more importantly, who you are.

In speaking with a confidante that day about my feelings of dissatisfaction, I realised that I’d been going about things the wrong way. Despite all that sets me apart from the crowd (no pretentiousness intended), I was actually trying to blend in. I suppose it’s part of this pack mentality we’ve all got embedded into our systems, trying to keep up with the seemingly successful crowd, adjusting to current trends. And all the while, I didn’t realise that I’d begun to lose myself in the process.

In doing so, I had stupidly become just another number rather than the person with that extra edge that I and hopefully by now, also you know that I am.

Although it’s only been several days, I feel like I’ve already reached a new level of clarity regarding where it is that I need to be with my life. I’ve spoken plenty about where I’m from, the languages I speak, the places I’ve lived and the experiences I’ve enjoyed in my life, and I know, someone out there, be it in the UK market I’ve been desperately trying to tap into or the regional Gulf market that doesn’t seem to listen, will recognise that I’m not just another sheep in the flock.

With enormous regret for absolutely having to state the following: 2011 is going to be a great year. With a potential, positive job change ensuing and a genuine look into moving onto greener pastures (English ones hopefully) I’ve finally come to terms with how I can change my life. Only I can do it, and relying on anyone else is dumb. Seriously. That is my morsel of wisdom.

I’d like to leave you with a final thought, one I came across when Googling - like the emo kid that I was earlier this week - ‘being yourself.’ This was my favourite result:

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no-one alive who is Youer than You.” - Dr Seuss

The Filthy English

2011-01-19T21:57:00.000+03:00

‘Filthy Arabs.’ That’s what the charming Englishman said.

The issue of racism, prejudice and general demographical ignorance is one I’ve written about on numerous occasions. It hits close to home due to my diverse background, plus living for so long in what I hate to admit is a largely discriminatory country, Australia*. My latest encounter with this rampant phenomenon occurred only last week.

As some of you will know, I’ve just returned from a wonderfully relaxing stint in Egypt. My week, cruising along the Nile, took me from little rural Luxor, and further south on the river towards Edfu, Kom Ombo and finally, Aswan, before returning along the same route.

Egypt is often lovingly referred to in Arabic as ‘مصر ام الدنيا’ or in more legible terms, ‘Egypt, mother of the world’. A sense of pride unlike any other is the foremost emotion you experience when strolling through the incredibly simple villages that border the Nile. This is highlighted via the pure grandeur and historical magnificence of the sites I had the honour of experiencing on my trip.

Egypt as a whole harbours a culture more rich and vibrant than dozens of others that speck the globe. The country is not only home to the last remaining member of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, but is also a burgeoning hub for the arts in the region, with an unrivalled cinema and music industry to boot amongst a thriving tourism market.

I don’t want this following comment to shadow my fond memories or your vision of Egypt, but feel like I need to make a point; an optional excursion to Cairo saw several tourists make their way to one of the busiest, most congested cities in the world. Upon their arrival back to the mother ship, much feedback was given.

The conclusion: the pyramids were astounding, the museum an undeniable work of art and the city itself? A dire mess.

No news there, really. Consider the population of 7.8 million, spread over just 453 square kilometers, with what has been labeled as one of the busiest metros in the world, counting over 700 million passengers in and around said metro annually, one can only imagine the traffic and pollution that inevitably ensue.

What saddened, and surprisingly, angered me (surprising only because I’ve been through like situations countless times) was the reaction of one city goer, who took to his vehement description of the trip as dismal and then continued on to shockingly spout, and quote, “Absolutely disgusting. Filthy Arabs.” I was standing right there.

I had half the mind to tell him about how I spent time out from my holiday in London last August, volunteering at a council estate in Brixton, knee deep in trash that included discarded needles, hair weaves and a dead bird. Not that Brixton could even remotely compare to the enormity of a task like cleaning up a sprawling metropolis like Cairo.

Not once did I say, ‘Filthy English’. Not once.

*Disclaimer: In no way is this comment meant to generalise or label the Australian public as a whole. As an Australian myself, I have experienced racism due to my mixed background and have witnessed this with a high percentage of friends and acquaintances who enjoy cultural backgrounds that are not purely Caucasian. Many tourists experience the same.

From Starbucks to Starsucks

2011-01-06T16:20:00.000+03:00

I don’t like Starbucks. Anyone that knows me will tell you. I think it’s a pretentious brand, incredibly unbalanced quality to price ratio and asides from that one chai latte in 2008, any occasion that has forced me to consume a beverage from the Seattle based giant has ended in blood, tears and a lawsuit. Ok, not a lawsuit (or blood) but you get the gist. How do I feel about the new Starbucks logo? I hate it.

Basically, what the coffee house has done is eliminate the white text circling the Starbucks siren, enlarged their very own femme fatale and voila! A cleaner, smoother almost art deco-esque revised image, right?

Wrong.

Chief executive Howard Shultz has put little fits of outraged clients (really, you’re outraged?) to rest, explaining the move as more fitting to the Starbucks long- term vision. Said vision sees the money sucking brewers expand further into the groceries business; hardly going to sell a bar of chocolate with the words ‘Starbucks Coffee’ emblazoned on the wrapper, are they?

Wait… why the hell not? As a consumer, I feel like Starbucks is trying to be something they’re not. It is to my greatest horror that I must now endure business meetings over not only mediocre tasting and incredibly pricey coffees, but will also eventually be faced with an array of what I can only imagine will prove to be a smorgasbord of equally mediocre products, also at stupidly expensive price tags.

I know Starbucks has enjoyed unrivalled success in their industry and I know many of you will disagree with me, but in my humble opinion, why change something that works for your brand and has done for almost a decade now? Some might argue that Starbucks has reached that point of market saturation where it can quite easily rid itself of extra brand luggage. I choose to disagree. Starbucks is not McDonalds, it is not Nike and it most definitely is not the artist formerly known as Prince.

Steady on coffee criminals.

Fraudulent Fifa Strikes Again?

2011-01-03T23:33:00.009+03:00

Just a quick one today to fill you all in on a really exciting event; as die-hard footy lovers will already know, on Thursday, FIFA announces its new Asian VP. Amongst those in the running are the incredible Prince Ali of Jordan and current VP, ancient Chung Mong-Joon, the South Korean rumoured to be Sepp Blatter’s successor.

I’m going to keep this brief; all talk of corruption and ‘keeping it in the family’ aside, Prince Ali is most definitely the more worthy candidate. It’s about time FIFA hired some young blood, someone with a little more transparency, who is not involved in all the political filth that’s seen FIFA under intense scrutiny of late.

Prince Ali’s campaign is based on bringing back some integrity to a game that has become nothing more than a political playground. The prince has been a fundamental player in bringing attention to the game in the Levant and the Arab world at large. With the help of HH King Abdullah of Jordan, Prince Ali has set up and currently leads the West Asian Football Federation (WAFF).

What breaks my heart is once again, how political conflict on the ground has affected the voting process already. Mohammed Bin Hammam of Qatar, president of the Asian Football Confederation (AFC), recently stated he will NOT be backing Prince Ali’s bid. His claim was due to broadening the FIFA spectrum, rather than seemingly taking sides with his Arab counterpart.

With the Qatari-Jordanian ties under the strains they have been for the past few years, the aforementioned claim is both curious and has dashed the potential for a legitimately committed face within FIFA and a friendly, beacon of hope between the two countries.

I want to say ‘may the best man win’ but sadly, because I know the best man is Prince Ali, I am near certain said quote will not apply to this particular circumstance. Sad really.

You can watch Prince Ali's campaign video below:

Come On Baby, Light My Fireworks

2011-01-02T15:44:00.003+03:00

Like you, I’m not very fond of the quintessential party pooper, skulking round in the corner, moping and crapping all over everyone’s booze-induced state of euphoria. However, this year I am going to be your party pooper; only because whilst the rest of you lounge about on your couches, eating bacon butties and watching reruns of Life on Mars (as you should on a Sunday and the start of the bloody year) I am back at work, wrapping up deadlines and the like.

However, it’s not all word counts and proofing in the office today. Amidst our 80s music morning marathon, my colleagues and I relived the two standout, televised New Year moments; the first being the Sydney fireworks show and the second, London’s competing, tune-synchronised (maybe ‘synchronised is too strong a word) extravaganza.

I only say competing because, although impressive, it baffles me that while The Times and like titles are having a go at other city’s NY celebrations, claiming London’s as the superior offering, slightly more important factors, like cost and environmental effects have gone unnoticed.

Now, I’m not the authority on green initiatives or the UK budget. You lot could have a fireworks fund for all I know (do you?); Australia doesn’t, that’s for sure. Yet for all your inflation and budget cuts, it feels like much was overlooked for an 8 minute show that most people were either too busy pashing or with their heads in ceramic bowls, chucking up, to actually notice.

I’m not trying to be a smart arse here (ok, maybe a little) but check the facts (for both our beloved countries): costs stood at £500,000 and $5 million, for the English and Aussie parties, respectively (I am of course overlooking much more lavish affairs, like the Burj Khalifa do in Dubai; that however was an ‘environmentally friendly’ shindig). Emergency services in London recorded an all-time high of a call every 11 minutes on the night – that’s approximately 2500 calls only post midnight.

Add to that a pinch of perchlorate contamination as a result of the gunpowder and heavy metal residue in the air post fireworks – specially seeing as the shows were the longest recorded in the history of both Australia and the UK - and proven thyroid gland infections in due effect, we have on our hands a brilliant start to the New Year.

I’d just like to make clear that I love fireworks just as much as the next person. When Bad Romance blasted over Circular Quay, I had little homesick tears in my eyes. The ridiculous amounts of money spent, all those people hurt, the stupid intoxication cases occupying emergency services already on high demand, the friendly little rivalry between the beautiful Aussies and charming English; all worth it.

Or is it?

p.s. Check out the brilliant Skype NYE site, showcasing celebrations the world over.

It's The End of the Wor.. Oh Wait, It's Only 2011

2011-01-01T22:11:00.000+03:00

I cannot believe it’s 2011 already. How many times have you heard that one today? It’s true though, this year has quite literally gone by like the blink of an eye (and apparently I rhyme in 2011). I had a lovely send off for 2010, complete with the quintessential New Year faves like parents embarrassing themselves on the dance floor, unhealthy liquor combinations and the delightful smell of cigar in my hair.

Onto more serious things though, the past year has been a largely reflective one for me. I’ve been challenged mentally, emotionally and physically like I have never been before and aim to use all that I’ve learnt to make 2011 my own (yes, I know, I groaned at that too).

I am thankful for many things that I’ve been blessed enough to acquire, conquer and enjoy in 2010 (click on links for previous posts documenting my year). I edited this coming sentence a billion times already, typing out things I’m grateful for, like family, travel, my health, accomplishments, etc, but to be honest, we both know you don’t have the time and I don’t like being a sap (mostly).

So let’s just leave it at this: thank you to everyone who has made this year a memorable one for me. Thank you for the love and support I’ve been shown during some of my lower points during the year, and thank you for pushing me to be a better person, do better things and most importantly, for that burgeoning desire to succeed and grow (so much for not being a sap).

Over the next 365 days, I will attempt to blog a lot more frequently. I’ll try not to get carried away with my essay writing tendencies, but to at least share with you this eventful journey that is my hectic life. Hence, you should prepare yourselves for more job seeking, cultural affairs ranting, political slamming, music and lyric quoting and the like.

Also, this site will soon move to a prettier, more official (royal if you like) and permanent home, but I’ll keep you all updated on that (all twelve of you) so no need to worry. Until then (tomorrow probably) take good care and go knock yourselves out with a bacon sandwich and a Bruce Willis flick.

Much love.

Image courtesy of Cyanide & Happiness

Sour Grapes and Football Greats

2010-12-10T17:15:00.005+03:00

On Thursday 2nd December 2010, football history was made as the winners of the 2018/2022 World Cup bids were announced. Polar geographical opposites, Russia and Qatar respectively, had nabbed the rights to host the World Cup on these two separate occasions, much to the surprise, and sadly, the horror of a worldwide audience.

Since Thursday night, a flurry of negative feedback has saturated news agencies, from both Western and Arab networks. Blogs, online newspapers, sport sites, Facebook-ers, Tweeters, radio stations and even President Obama, have dished lashings of sour commentary in response.

There have been some legitimate queries put forth, surrounding Qatar’s capability of fulfilling the promises made for the 2022 WC. Sadly though, most have been...well, bullshit.

I found this Wikipedia-driven article from the Fulham and Hammersmith Chronicle particularly interesting.

Now, why do I care? I have lived in Qatar for the past 15 months and before this, for a significant chunk of my childhood, making this account more valid than any other article I’ve read since Thursday night. Note, I was rooting for the Aussie bid. I am also neither Qatari nor Muslim.

Before anything else, let me tell you, I have my qualms with this place. Anyone who knows me will tell you, adapting to Qatar’s norms and traditions has not been easy for me. I get to say this because I have experienced it firsthand. Yet the country commands my utmost respect and admiration.

Get your head in check, and read this; I guarantee you its xenophobe free; which is more than I can say for many others.

The four main concepts that FIFA require be highlighted within the final Bidding Files of each nation are: adequate infrastructure, legal conditions, operational elements and legacy. Let’s address them, shall we?

Where infrastructure is concerned, the Qatar bid’s pitch consisted of: twelve iconic stadiums to be built, each with a sufficient cooling system to harness the ridiculous 40 degree average temperatures of June/July.

A whopping $17 billion has also been set aside to accommodate the influx of spectators and aid Qatar’s desire to be regarded as a tourist destination.

The Doha Metro Network and a water taxi system, alongside existing taxis and buses, will have been developed for adequate transport.

The reality is this: up until Thursday, said development had been put on hold. However four stadiums were to be built regardless of the bid’s result. Can Qatar pull this off?

The promised zero carbon cooling equipment utilising solar energy is already in the works and will be tried and tested long before 2022. Fan zones and all means of transportation will also be air condition to an optimum 27 degrees.

One of the 12 stadiums designed for 2022

I have lived in Qatar through those months; it is not easy to handle but the country is well equipped to deal with the heat as everything is air conditioned.

Can Qatar manage to build the needed accommodation for a possible influx of over 10 million spectators?

In a 5 year span, Qatar has built the infrastructure necessary to host an array of sporting events: the 2006 Asian Games (13,000 athletes participated), the ATP Qatar Open (17 years strong) and the Qatar Masters golf tournament amongst other like events. So, yes.

A public transport system of the enormity spoken of for the 2022 WC has never really been needed in Qatar. With most of the population living in the capital, Doha, 132 square kilometers hardly calls for much more than a car.

However, a public transportation system has been in effect for several years, with noticeable efforts to encourage residents to utilise these in a bid to decrease the city’s carbon footprint.

Legal conditions have also had tongues wagging; as an active supporter of the ‘Palestinian cause’ Qatar has copped much flack over the past few days upon the bid’s chief executive, Hassan Al-Thawadi, announcing that, “...all participating nations are welcome” to the Qatar 2022 bid.

If that is not commitment to the global nature of the game, I don’t know what is.

The country does have a fairly strict residency criteria, however, and not unlike other WC hosts since 1930, the country is willing to make certain concessions for visitors during the 2022 event.

‘Football for Hope’ is the cornerstone of the FIFA corporate social responsibility program. Wether you love or hate him (I’m vouching most of you will opt for the second one there) Sepp Blatter wrapped up the 2018/2022 decisions as a bid to further the concept of legacy.

Neither country has hosted the WC before - England has, back in 1966, Japan and S.Korea in 2002, America in 1994 - so why not now?

Here is the argument thus far: the process is corrupt and voting was not based on merit. I’m neither denying nor agreeing with this.

Had the process ever been the puritanical procedure expected of FIFA, the World Cup would be the only event on earth that actually abides completely by an eligible letter of the law.

Doesn’t make it right, or fair, but if life were fair, I’d have lived in Qatar the two years Pep Guardiola played with Al-Ahli (2003-05). If you know where that world is, please point me in the right direction.

So far, I’d say albeit plans being slightly adventurous - yet certainly achievable where Qatar is concerned - the operational risk rating of the bid should not exceed that of somewhere like England.

Several articles emanating from namely, England and the US, have stated ludicrous claims that Qatar is a ‘dangerous’ place to be, where you could receive ‘90 lashes’ if you dared consume alcohol. Hang on, let me ring the state’s official ‘man-at-arms’. Come on.

Alcohol is widely available in numerous locations, and I have never been at a loss for a place to go for a drink or a dance. I have never been reprimanded for drinking. I would not advise you, however, to go stumbling through the streets with a wine cask. I’m sure we can all handle that.

Now, you want to talk about dangerous?

How about all those beer bottles used as weapons (alongside iron bars and concrete slabs of course) in the Millwall-Ipswich quarter final of 1978? And the riot at Luton in 1985, that eventually forced Maggie Thatcher, to set up a “War Cabinet” to combat football hooliganism?

Isn't he the cutest?

What about when West Ham United played American Columbus Crew in Ohio, summer of ‘08, and police had to restrain and even detain rival fans when a fight broke out, involving hundreds.

In England’s 1966 WC, the Jules Rimet trophy was stolen from it’s place of display, instigating a nation-wide search.

When FIFA chose America to host the 1994 WC, people the world over were shocked at the selection, as there appeared to be a certain lack of football fans. It was one of the most successful events in WC history, in terms of spectator numbers, infrastructure and legacy.

The point is this: every bidding country, be it for 2018 or 2022, has faced criticism of some sort. Each bidding nation has its fair share of pitfalls, be it distance, cultural constraint, financial capabilities, security (as was the fear in South Africa last year) and so on.

I live in Qatar. I know this country’s capabilities. I know it’s downfalls. I have never felt anything but safe here, I have always been able to provide for myself in the way that I please. I have been granted opportunities I could never have achieved elsewhere and have witnessed the country’s development firsthand.

If they say they will succeed, then they WILL succeed. I hope they do anyway.

And I hope next time Australia bid, they refrain from bribing. Or do so in a more discreet manner anyway.

To watch the final Qatari presentation, please click here.

To watch the 2022 announcement, please click here.

Am I Famous Yet?

2010-11-21T16:26:00.000+03:00

Everyone is an entrepreneur or a founder of something these days. Everyone is a specialist at this or that and everyone thinks they are the authority on some topic or the other. Moreover, often we come across social media specialist websites that claim to be undertaking some form of social experiment.

I enjoy the personable nature of said sites and I like being given the chance to express myself and be a counted figure from within the hundreds of thousands of interviewees/quiz takers. The actual significance of my participation is irrelevant; it is the conscious decision to recognise that my opinion does matter. I know this sounds a little prophetical but it’s a lot simpler than my waffling self can portray – I don’t want to be just another number.

I enjoy meeting and talking with new people more than anything else in the world. So I thought I’d learn a little something about the handful of you that make your way onto this incredibly humble blog.

This morning I came across a ‘cultural experiment’ of sorts that I could relate to. StopBeingFamous.com is an online magazine that documents “the characters, style, happenings and humour that help define this generation artistically.” My understanding of their ‘experiment’ is that it is a journey into the flock mindset of my generation and why/how a single person’s influence can practically revolutionise music, literature, politics and the world at large.

Ferrari Sheppard is the founder of StopBeingFamous.com, and the brains behind said experiment. One of few people I actually deem as a legit entrepreneur, with a first name that evokes speed, agility and strength and a middle name like ‘Elite’ (yup, Ferrari Elite Sheppard) it’s no wonder that Sheppard’s crew turned the interview tables on the creative mastermind to find out what HIS opinions were.

I found the questions they asked to be some of the most interesting and least pretentious queries I have ever read in like publications in a long, long time. The questions are noted below with my answers; I would love for you to simply copy and paste these into the comment box, delete my answers and give me yours. Just so we can get to know each other a little better.

· What was the first piece of music that you purchased?

The first piece as far as I can remember was a cassette of ‘Essential Rock Tunes’ when I was 13 years old. It introduced me to The Stone Roses, Placebo and David Bowie. Totally random selection that ironically set the tone to my musical tastes for life.

· What's your favorite frozen food?

Potato jewels. No, not fries, JEWELS. They’re itsy bitsy little potato chunks rounded into pellet-like shapes. I’m very low maintenance.

· Imagine you're rollerskating: What year is it? What song is playing? What are you wearing?

It’s 1977, John Travolta lookalikes in high-waisted pants fill the rink. It’s a slow number, probably “The Way We Were”. I’m wearing a floaty, purple tie-dye shirt, and a daisy in my hair.

· Do you own anything purple?

Purple is my favourite colour so, many things, namely a floaty, tie-dye shirt…

· Use "stop being famous" in a sentence. For example: "I wish Jared from Subway would stop being famous."

I wish stupidity would stop being rewarded and high status individuals would stop being famous for the sake of being famous without a single positive credit to their name.

To read Ferrari’s answers, please click here.

STOP! In The Name of... The Federal Government?

2010-11-15T10:46:00.001+03:00

Sometimes, all it takes is a headline like, "Public Servant's Lovelorn Email Goes Viral" to put a fresh perspective on things. Courtesy of a lovesick Department of Immigrations employee, an email was sent out to the ENTIRE Federal Government department in Canberra inquiring about a girl the employee had met at a work function.

The two had met, clicked (according to him anyway) and parted ways without exchanging last names, telephone numbers or with any other information for future points of contact. Smitten, later that night the employee sent an email to the group addresses within the Federal Government department, describing the girl and pleading with them to contact him in case anyone was familiar with her.

Recognising that it wasn't exactly appropriate means for his star crossed lovers fare, the employee has since apologised for misusing the addresses. However, he remains adamant in his purpose, quote, "life is too short for regret." Reports have said that the email has gone viral on blogs round the country but I can't seem to find any copies of said mystery email just yet - will repost this item in case a copy is found.

No Freudian or philosophical interpretation of these actions for me, but basically, I'm impressed. How many people do you know would jeopardise their employment within a government sector over a girl they'd just met?

p.s. the employee in question has not lost his job (yet) but a spokesperson from the Federal Department has announced that the situation is currently before the Values and Conduct branch for evaluation.

p.s.s. I wonder if he tried Facebook and Twitter?

The Rock and The Hard Place

2010-11-11T10:21:00.003+03:00

Basically, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, I could learn to become at least somewhat satisfied with what I’ve been given thus far. This entails a good job with great work experience, living in a country with relatively good weather year-round and paying less than the equivalent of £8 for a week’s supply of petrol (probably the biggest perk living in Qatar, however, if civil infrastructure was remotely more efficient, there may not be the need for a 4 car average/family). This is the rock.

I know, I know, I shouldn’t be complaining really, but isn’t that what being in your 20s is about? Not the complaining bit, but wanting more? I’m made to feel ungrateful at times when I express my listlessness and dissatisfaction with life, and not only by my elders, but friends that are my age, give or take. Their complacency scares me.

I have a lovely girlfriend who is a couple of years older than I am. She moved here from America a few years ago, five to be exact. Let’s call her Nat. Nat hated being in Doha at the start. She’d expected things to be a lot easier considering her folks lived in the little peninsular and she was specifically looking to gain some valuable work experience in a booming economy, add to her savings nest and get the hell out of dodge. She got stuck. She is now trying very, very hard to like her rock.

You see, it really isn’t that easy choosing between success + money versus the romantic allure of possibly more success, the image of the grass is always greener on the other side and in effect the ever-alluding happiness + adventure equation. I’ve been blogging for a few months about my desire to take the next step in my career/life. Qatar has given me so much and I am eternally grateful. It has catapulted me into the world of publishing and a luxury lifestyle I never thought I could have at such a young age. I haven’t saved as much as I would have liked to (ahem) but I have lived an incredibly comfortable life for the past year or so, traveling frequently to visit friends and family, spending on unnecessary frivolities, etc. So, what’s the hard place?

That elusive pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that boasts foreign lands, love, music, culture and overall, a Globetrekker-like rendition of life as an alien. Not the pudgy, green things with oversized heads, but the one Sting sang about (no Sting bashing here, ta). I know this post seems like a huge whinge, and in a way it is, but until you’ve been in a position where you’re offered the best of both worlds, when do you stop becoming sensible and responsible and decide to take the plunge into the ‘great unknown’?

I’ve been given a variety of different answers when posing that question. The one I hate the most is, “You’re still young, what are you settled down in a job for?” Let me get this right: hundreds of thousands of fresh graduates in the Levant, the UK, Australia are struggling to find jobs many months into their search. Yet here I am being encouraged to abandon my post? How do I know when the next stroke of luck might hit?

Yes, I said luck, because to be honest with you, I’ve lost all faith in the recruitment process as one that evaluates based on merit. Read my previous posts* on my attempts at employment with Sky and Al Jazeera. Now I know I can’t expect to have everything.. wait, why not? Let’s reevaluate. What is the recipe for success?

The five pillars of success

See (really see) what's possible
Know specifically what you want to achieve
Make good decisions
Understand the tactics to get things done and to change minds
Earn the trust and respect of the people around you

It sure seems like we spend all our time on #4.

This is a blog post from the legendary Seth Godin, who I’ve quoted several times on this blog since being directed onto his works by one of my mentors. I wholeheartedly agree and it scares me. We spend most of our time trying to convince others that we can do this or that. I sent several emails to the bureau chief at AJE London headquarters, trying to convince him that I can work in the news department in spite of my lack of experience in broadcasting. I know that I can, mind you. It’s not rocket science. I’m a qualified researcher if nothing else, with experience in print media, therefore my plea was completely justified. However, is that really what I wanted?

I spent too much time on #4. I launched myself into #4 after steamrolling through the others. #5 is most important I believe. Ensuring others trust you, believe in your capabilities. That alone is a task that can take years to achieve, yet here I was, trying to compress a mountain of work into a molehill timespan of a few months. I could rattle on about this for hours to be honest. I spend most of my days consumed with the thought of more - what more can I be doing to get what I want? What is it that I want in the first place? How can I get people to see me for what I really am? Stereotypes, misconceptions, economic climates, politics, discrimination, lack of jobs, inexperience, etc.

These are the issues in my way and many more that I am trying to overcome on this learning curve of mine. I hope a year from now when I look back at this post that I may have come across a few answers for myself. Meanwhile, if you feel, or have ever experienced what Im going through now, leave me a comment, I'd love to know what you think.

*Disclaimer: My previous posts detailing my communication with the noted respective organisations is representative of a personal experience only. They are not critiques of the networks themselves, but of the recruitment process within which I was involved. Also, the title of this post is not in reference to the Cutting Crew album, thanks.

Banksy does The Simpsons... Again

2010-10-11T23:11:00.001+03:00

Everyone’s talking about last night’s Simpsons episode and the stellar satire Banksy spun on the opening credits. The opening sequence starts off as normal while slowly things crumble and unfold, revealing what is pretty much a provocative response to accusations from various parties, claiming that makers of The Simpsons use ‘unorthodox’ means in episode production.

Examples used in Banksy’s ‘spoof’ include SouthEast Asian sweatshops, animal abuse, whaling, vandalism, a corrupt society and child labour, amongst others. This isn’t the first our animated friends have seen of Banksy, with the artist’s interest in the show apparent since mid 2008.

Upon leaving soon to be devastated hurricane city New Orleans, a mural of a young boy, emulating the same blackboard writing action as does Bart Simpson in the usual opening sequence of the show, appeared on a random wall in the city. On the blackboard the boy, seemingly punished for something, is writing line after line of ‘I must not copy what I see on The Simpsons’.

With the show’s history embedded in political satire since its inception, I dont think many people were surprised with further involvement from the talented graffiti artist, especially considering his personal stance within numerous activist campaigns.

What does surprise me is this seemingly pro-Fox stance especially for someone that has so successfully stood for numerous peace/justice movements and more specifically anti-capitalism. It is strange to say the least that Banksy has chosen to shun opposition to the universally labeled crooked and biased network.

What do you think?

p.s. Banksy’s coolest piece of work has to be the Pulp Fiction bit he stenciled in Shoreditch. Check it out.

p.s.s. I apologise for the poor quality video. The Banksy Youtube channel link to the episode seems to have been removed due to copyright infringement, something or the other.

Careers, Immigration, SIA and SEO

2010-10-10T14:38:00.002+03:00

As it stands thus far, I am pretty much where I started with this job hunt. Or at least that's how it feels. It's been a roller coaster ride of late, what with trying to tap into a million (slight exaggeration) different avenues to try and get somewhere with this whole networking business.

I feel I need to be fair though, as I do often tend to forget the good things. Working in the Gulf for the past year has blessed me with many things I know I couldn't have achieved elsewhere. To be honest, if my heart was in it, staying on here for a few more years could probably do both my career and my bank account, wonders - alas, it is not for me.

I've realised that my job hunt has been a rather one dimensional journey. This entire time I've been searching for a journalistic niche - mistake. Firstly, the journalist market in the UK is beyond saturated as it is, making it near impossible for a non-citizen to break into said field (you'd think having the same queen would help - not so much). I've also faced issues with breaking into broadcast because of my lack of experience; a vicious cycle to say the least.

The cherry on top of this career icing is the fact that British immigration law states international sourcing of employees as a last resort for positions that can not be filled by citizens/residents of the UK. My current role as editor does not help distinguish me from the hundreds of struggling scribes in the Kingdom.

What to do? Oh yes, I remember, I HAVE ANOTHER DEGREE.

See, I'm not really a journalist to begin with. I never took any journalism courses, neither is that my degree title. I am a 'media' graduate, i.e. I hold a BA in Media and Cultural Studies. This means I studied the counter effects, nature of and reactions to the media at large, how it functions and its effects on the public.

My degree also entails an inherent look at culture and the different ways in which world societies represent themselves and deal with the mass feed of information delivered to the millions of internet users, television and radio audiences and newspaper readers worldwide.

Combined with my post graduate degree in Social Change and Development, I am equipped to pretty much take on the marketing/human resource world by storm (what? I get to talk myself up, okay?). Social media is often used as a tool to publicise a brand/product/service etc, and successfully so for many cases.

What we don't see enough of is the use of said tools to source the effects on users of these social networks. The integration of basic Social Impact Assessment principles (SIA) with these tools can pretty much eliminate the need for physical cases of SIA.

Having stemmed from the original Health Impact Assessment model (HIA), SIA was initially nurtured for implementation in cases of physical development, such as the impact of new civil infrastructure on a certain minority or face lifting national landmarks, such as the damming of the Narmada River in India.

SIA has come a long way since then, with basic principles adaptable to the ever evolving technology, marketing and even media industries. The core goal is through the monitoring of target societies, negative effects can be minimised prior to the implementation of technology schemes, marketing campaigns and even media releases.

The concept of SEO is pretty much the technological, i.e. emotionless, equivalent to SIA. As one of my TED Talk heroes, Jonathan Harris, would say, it is up to us to ensure that this technology, this "planetary meta-organism" that is the internet, is transformed into a space we want to inhibit. It is up to us to make it as human as possible.

That's the skinny folks. This is the new - potential - career path. Mind you, if a television network offered me a position, I'd hardly refuse it. Spread the word!

p.s. Did I also mention that Im trilingual (English, Arabic and conversational French)? Yeah, just getting that in there. Ahem.

The NeverEnding Learning Curve

2010-09-23T01:12:00.002+03:00

I’ve been going on about my job search for a while now and to be completely honest, there are days when I all I want to do is pack it all in and hurl abuse; at the countless recruiters, in-house human resource management teams and even at the poor automated response systems churning out hundreds of we- regret- to- inform- you’s a day.

Since I’ve begun documenting my journey, I’ve been faced with a range of feedback. There are people who have been confused/unimpressed/supportive; others simply feel I am abusing my ‘blogging privileges’ in reaching out to the public with my experiences. Funny, I thought that's what personal blogs were for?

Now although everyone is entitled to an opinion, it is in turn my prerogative to utilise the tools I have been offered via social media to market myself – I only wish I’d begun to do so earlier. It’s a double-edged sword, the attempt to publicise one’s skill set through said means, as often this can be mistaken for egotism, conceit and even presumptuousness.

I’m willing to take that risk.

In a short span of time, I’ve been lucky enough to come across a number of professionals who have kindly taken the time to talk with me about my online presence, in a bid to guide me to my currently elusive job opportunity. I am going to share a few of the tips they have offered me in order to help whoever is reading this to better understand the journey of this unhappily employed twenty-something; I am also sharing them because slowly, things are starting to happen:

Tip #1 – Be wise in choosing your network.

This rule isn’t exclusive to online presence, but translates into real life. I remember my folks always reprimanding me on my latest selection of friends and saying, “Who you associate with, is who people will perceive you to be”. As always, they were right.

I am now trying to connect/network with a number of broadcast personalities/employees/media recruiters in the hopes of demonstrating a certain degree of initiative as opposed to the monotony and frankly, the futility of open job applications. So far I've managed to elicit feedback from/establish connections with journos, techies, motivational figures and marketing moguls alike.

Tip #2 – Don’t spread yourself thin.

A particularly difficult one for me to follow, as up until very recently, I resembled a bit of a headless chicken, endeavouring to prove my competence in several journalistic niches. Now, although one may indeed be capable of juggling varied projects, whilst in a state of career limbo it is unwise to attempt to present oneself as a ‘jack of all trades’.

Select the one thing you excel at, or alternatively, the one thing that sets you apart from the crowd. In effect, in weeks to come, you will notice that I will have culled my general randomness for a more focused approach. Hopefully soon that will entail less job search grief and more employed banter and bliss.

Tip #3 – Pay attention to detail.

Recycled content is boring; people may read it, but it’s not exactly going to bring the lovely people from BBC a-knocking. Therefore, continuing on from Tip #2, Tip #3 advises that you stay on top of what’s hot. As you all know by now, I more or less have an opinion about everything, but ranting about the jaded world of socialites at London Fashion Week is not the best look for me at the moment.

What happened this morning? And this evening? The Dell Looking Glass if you’re in tech, the epic Toon army win over Chelsea at the bridge if you’re a sports writer, etc. For a sociocultural journo, my own diverse background - my entire life really – is a unique tool I should be using to my advantage. There is so much happening on my side of the world that people are completely unaware of. I will change that.

More tips at a later stage; this is a steady learning curve and (mostly) I am enjoying the growth it's afforded me. Besides, you don’t expect me to give away all my secrets, do you? Watch this space.

Self-Delusion, Self-Loathing and Al Jazeera - Part 3

2010-09-17T15:47:00.001+03:00

Yesterday I interrupted my Al Jazeera series to get stuck into the heated debate over the Pope's state visit to the UK. Although I know lots of you are still hemorrhaging indignant outcries surrounding said visit, I can only hope these protests give you the peace of mind you are searching for. Now back to business...

My qualms with the recruitment processes of renowned media networks, such as Al Jazeera, BBC, most definitely Sky, the CNN, etc, have recently aligned themselves with my disdain over the manner of social interaction these broadcast giants exercise. The personable nature - or lack thereof - of said organisations has cast me into a deep funk of late. And not the groovy, James Brown, Chaka Khan, 'dance 'til you feel betta' kinda funk.

Our emotions are based on our beliefs about the world. Categorisation, cliches, stereotypes and blatant branding of content has consumers conveniently packed into niches for which mass media is now produced (see: Weeds). Obviously, this is not rocket science, we are all bright individuals who are aware of the evils of biased television, la di da. I am sure we are also all aware of the spread of this 'uniform' packaging of information across the internet - enter Google Instant - or more specifically, within social media.

Then why are we still buying into said uniformity?

Recently, I came across a TED Talk with computer scientist and author extraordinaire, Jonathan Harris. In his talk, Harris discussed his fascination with human emotion through mediums that have now become more common than personal social interaction, i.e. blogging and microblogging.

As a storyteller, Harris’s infamous ‘We Feel Fine’ and ‘Universe’ projects have helped the Vermonter allow everyday internet users to tell their stories. His ultimate goal? To guide the evolution of the internet into a space we will still have the desire to inhabit in the future. For us to further harbour this desire, Harris claims that this ‘planetary meta-organism’ must honour both the individual and the human collective - just like real life should do. Cue the fountain of incorrigible, regurgitated media headlines.

A search result from 'We Feel Fine'. I searched emotions in the USA, for the date Pastor Terry Jones made his statement about burning the Qur'an

It often feels like the media addresses its audience as cattle. Headlines are often spewed as if from the same, mind- numbing, socially uniform media machine, inadvertently insulting its audience, with the emotional intelligence to recognise the cookie-cutter formulas plastered on our television screens, day after day.

Not unlike recruiters, that have recently strewn my naively ideal sense of justice across a gravelly road and run over it repetitively with a ten- tonne tractor, the media has forgotten what its purpose is. They are not here only to inform. They are here to instigate, revitalise and educate. Their mission is not complete without an emotion- fueled reaction.

None of this is possible without emotive communication. THIS is why Al Jazeera should hire me. You may know your news, but I know people. I am one of those people.

‘Nope to the Pope?’ Oh, Come On

2010-09-16T12:31:00.004+03:00

The Pope is coming to Britain and you are all very, very angry. Yes, we know. Now, before you skip this entire article to hurl abuse at me, take a moment to actually digest what it is I’m trying to say here.

To begin with, let’s get one thing straight: I am not a fan of the Pope. For the sake of journalistic objectivity, I wont pursue this statement further. I will, however, indulge you with a little background information as to why this current furor is grating on my nerves worse than a freshly manicured Jersey girl on a chalkboard.

I was raised a Christian. STOP. Wait. Continue reading. No, not Catholic – although my father was raised as such, was taught by nuns, the works, etc – but Christian. My mum’s family is of Christian Orthodox descent. As a doctor, my mother often questioned religion and its possible integration with the theory of evolution, affording my siblings and I the opportunity to make up our own minds about what we wanted to believe.

Needless to say, after being exposed to some of the arguments against the faith, I slowly lost the desire to belong. Not to Christianity, but to organised religion as a whole. I have my own set of beliefs now, based around what I am comfortable living with on a day- to- day basis. I do, however, respect other people’s choices – although I may not agree with them – and have friends of various religious backgrounds. I believe in interaction based on personal merit, rather than a set of beliefs.

The Catholic Church has long been recognised for its unforgiving nature. From the condemnation of one of the greatest physicists the world will ever know, (see: Galileo), the age- old opposition of gay rights, the now numerous cases of paedophilic activity and so forth. Over the last decade, the media has had a field day with the evident and arguably increasing corruptness of the church, with apologies being issued by the Vatican and the Pope, at large for such.

Clearly, I have my issues with the aforementioned facts. I believe science reinforces my personal ‘seeing is believing’ motto, have partied alongside the loveliest people in the world in Sydney Mardi Gras – who’s legal rights should not even be questioned as far as I’m concerned – and have had my own personal experiences with the deep scarring that comes from a broken trust.

My qualms simply lie in the empty factoids regurgitated by the media that fuel some of the most useless commentary I have heard from people I consider intelligent. My issue is not with the distaste and frustration, no. I’m not even English and I found myself throwing a Rocky-esque air pump whilst watching Stephen Fry’s statement via the BBC surrounding the classification of the said visit as ‘state’. Why should the average UK tax- payer help fund this event? I don’t believe they should.

This matter cant get any more personal for me, so I feel I am safe in saying I am not presenting myself in a hypocritical light when I say this, but enough with the Pope songs. Enough with the ‘I wonder if we can pope people on Facebook today instead of poke’ and the blatant cussing. I appreciate the outcry against this now inevitable occurrence; I too have been a victim of the trust based in a faith system that turned incredibly sour.

But instead of ordering a ‘Nope to the Pope’ t-shirt, how about looking up the names of the families within the UK that have been touched by such injustices (there are links to websites, help lines and much more online) and sending through words of support when they are bound to feel most vulnerable? Better yet, why not do something CRAZY and opt to speak with someone who looks upon the Pope’s visit in a favourable light. Ask them why. I for one would love to know. No, don’t call them insane whilst pointing a finger and laughing.

I am not the authority on anything, but I love to learn. I enjoy listening to people’s personal accounts because an emotive expression always trumps a mass machine-spewed headline. It also trumps foolish outbursts like ‘f*** the Pope’.

Ps. If you'd like a look at what some journos have been saying, check out these clips/articles that I found interesting: Catholic Herald columnist Milo Yiannopoulos, The Telegraph's Judith Woods, Al Jazeera, CAFOD's Pascale Palmer.

Disclaimer: This post is in no way meant to belittle people’s personal experiences. The author does not, by means of this article, intend to undermine any faith or belief. This piece is purely intended to encourage discussion as opposed to ridicule.

Self-Delusion, Self-Loathing and Al Jazeera - Part 2

2010-09-15T15:18:00.004+03:00

Al Jazeera has been around a lot longer than the younger media generation care to remember. Founded in 1996 via Emiri decree (a rule/decision handed down from the Head of State), the network has come to terms with more challenges than any other Arab-based news network in history. With legions of avid followers balanced out by equal doses of harsh critique, it is without doubt that Al Jazeera continues to build on its already formidable media empire, going from strength to strength within the industry.

Considering my previous post about the rejection from an exec producer at AJE London, my question is: What does it take to work at Al Jazeera? Clearly, from the producer's response, I do not have the right experience. Let's discuss this shall we?

I hold a Masters degree in Social Change and Development, where social transformation is key. Social transformation is the shift of a particular cultural mindset within the context of a nation, a peoples, a government, etc, and as influenced by culture, politics, history, the economy and so on.

As an equipped social impact assessment trainee, I have researched the effects of the Westernisation of Bollywood on the Indian film industry, and in effect it’s one billion plus fans. A reflection on ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ and its counter effects, would make a brilliant episode for AJE's ‘48’, don’t you think?

I have also delved into the Southeast/South Asian labour movement to the Middle East and the local/regional minorities that suffer at the loss of a potentially promising local workforce. There’s another idea for you Amanda Palmer.

Barbara Serra is a presenter with AJE in London. She is of Milanese origin and has an educational background in Journalism and International Relations. I can relate, with my background in Media and Cultural Studies. Serra began her career with the BBC as a researcher.

As a postgraduate student, and then as a staff writer and now a deputy editor, I've been trained and have researched material within the realms of education, culture, entertainment, the F&B industry, politics and many more. Articles I've consequently had published include items covering the World Innovation Summit for Education (WISE), the taboo posed by psychiatric aid, and the worldwide phenomenon that is Indian cuisine. For arguments sake, let’s say I could do that BBC research job.

Years on, she now presents several sociocultural programs on the AJE network, such as one of my personal favourites, ‘Street Food’, alongside news reading from the London offices. Serra is also the first non-native English speaker to have EVER presented the news on British television.

But who are these people really? Do they care what we feel or what we say? Why do we write our blogs, update our Facebook’s and tweet relentlessly issues they publish? Is anyone listening? They should do. And yes, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out why.

Self-Delusion, Self-Loathing and Al Jazeera - Part 1

2010-09-14T17:00:00.004+03:00

One of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do was when I was recently asked to complete a self-appraisal exercise. This was one of several parts of a personal and professional evaluation, aimed at helping to guide me towards the next step in life and more specifically, my career.

Now, although the appraisal was an essentially for-my-eyes-only guideline, at each section I found myself faltering and becoming increasingly exasperated with the task and most surprisingly, with myself.

“Am I really that passionate about writing?” “Do I have a promising career in television?” “Should I really jot down the London Triathlon?” All these questions and many more were playing on my conscience and although I did complete the task, I wasn’t close to satisfied with the end result.

Most of us, even the luckier ones, have at some stage been faced with the ugly truth of how difficult the job hunt has become. Asides from having plunged myself into the deep end of an unbelievably saturated industry, where I often feel like the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland, i.e. utterly in awe with my counterparts, I am also attempting to do so in markets that are still recovering from the bellowing hammer fall of the economic crisis.

Unfortunately, unlike Alice, I do not have a wise, hookah-smoking caterpillar called Absalom to ask for advice. I suppose I could be happy with the opportunity that I’ve got and continue to live my life knowing full well how many people would kill for the career choices I’ve been afforded thus far. However – and although I do love a good fairy tale – I refuse to allow these circumstances to anchor my ambition.

Today I received my daily dose of blogger genius via revolutionary entrepreneur, author, public speaker and THE authority on permission marketing, the inspirational Seth Godin. Having recently been introduced to Godin’s work, the no nonsense, make it or break it attitude that would usually have put me off – refer back to my liking fairy tales – continues to intrigue me with each new blog post delivered to my email inbox. Today’s topic, ‘Self-delusion and self-loathing’, needless to say inspired this piece of self-reckoning.

Now, you can all read the post for yourselves (as you should, as well as subscribing to his everyday feed) but this got me thinking. “Support yourself with the truth” says Godin. Yesterday, I contacted one of the executive producers at the Al Jazeera English offices in London. I told him who I was, what I was looking for, the reason I want to join AJE & the shows I could see myself becoming a part of. I also noted my work experience, the appropriate references and all that jazz.

Said producer came back to me with an incredibly polite, concise and to-the-point answer, “thank you for your interest, but with no experience in television, we can’t hire you in the news department.” Side note: I never stated any desire to work in the news department and had formerly been offered an internship at AJE headquarters in Doha, Qatar. I turned this down because as a fresh BA graduate, I felt I still had more to accomplish before joining the ranks of a network as prestigious as this media giant.

Three years, one postgraduate degree and a handful of intense work experience later, I'm not what they are looking for? Take a second guess. And tomorrow, I'll tell you why.

SKY Is Not The Limit

2010-08-31T19:47:00.001+03:00

So here I am, up after a gorgeous nap (have to get my beauty sleep in sometime). I'd had a lovely day thus far. Woke up in good spirits in spite of my late night slumber, with a 'go get em' attitude and a whole lot of job applications bookmarked for hard labour during the day.

Now, although I know the ethics of applying for jobs whilst at your current place of work may be somewhat... hmm... questionable, let's say, I do have to point out that the publication with which I work has quite literally just gone to print, meaning we are on the cusp of a PR drought - which will typically only ease a fun two weeks before the next deadline, but this is besides the point.

In effect, there's not much I could have been doing, and with my seniors knowing full well my intention of departing our buzzing towers of literary genius, and their blessings (there were also tears, rude words and a fun rendition of Phil Collins's 'You'll be in My Heart') in tow, let's just say I wasn't exactly fighting with my conscience over this one.

Anyway, back to my rude awakening, courtesy of the Sky Talent Resourcing Team.

A couple of days ago I had confidently applied for a job posting with the renowned network for a position as Fashion & Beauty Journalist. I like Sky. I think they are one of the least nonsense ridden, concise and 'true to their nature' networks on television. Which isn't to say I wouldn't work for them if I thought they were as biased as FOX during the American elections in '08, but this was a bonus. Besides, who isn't biased, really? Also, considering the job I was applying for, there was no fear of me getting tangled up in any heated political debate, much less an ill-fitting mascara wand or Paris Hilton's latest substance abuse disaster or whatever the kids are doing these days so, yeah. Sky.

No. Not Sky. Not this time anyway. This is what they said,

"We really appreciate the time and effort you put into your application, however after due consideration, we're unable to take your application any further in relation to this position. Unfortunately due to the high number of applications we receive, we are unable to provide feedback on your application."

Ok, so let me get this right. The criteria for the job included:

* Sourcing and originating content, images and video

* Researching and writing content

* Subbing copy and checking for legal issues

* Publishing content onto the site

* Monitoring site statistics

* Keeping on top of the fashion and beauty news

* Dealing with PRs and agents

* Conducting interviews and attending press conferences

* Covering major fashion and beauty events

You get the gist. Potential candidates should ideally possess the following:

* NCTJ or equivalent qualification and educated to degree level.

* Specialist knowledge of entertainment including fashion, beauty entertainment and celebrities.

* Demonstrable experience as a fashion and beauty journalist with Online experience

* Experience of writing for a web audience

* Excellent and accurate English

* Full understanding of MS Internet Explorer & HTML

* Intense interest and love of fashion, beauty, entertainment and celebrity gossip

* Strong instinct and news judgment for the Sky Showbiz audience

Are you all with me so far? Ok. So here I am. I am a media major from one of the top universities in Australia. I have a postgraduate degree in a field that allows me a better understanding of cultural traditions and expectations via the media. Last time I checked, England was a multicultural nation, no? So, for the sake of this argument, let's make this a score on my side of the tally board.

I have been a writer and an editor for an internationally renowned LUXURY LIFESTYLE publication (ahem, yea, hello Sky? Really? No light bulbs going off for ya?), which has allowed me the pleasure (and sometimes, the horror) of working with some of the most renowned names in fashion (Marc Jacobs, Dior), international couturiers (Stéphane Rolland) and cosmetic brands alike (Nexus, Clarins, Make Up 4ever). The publication rests in such a comfortable position within its 'counterparts' that we find ourselves spoilt for choice in terms of content, guaranteeing a long list of eager contacts, with which I have built successful working relationships. Oh, and just as an afterthought, I can rattle off the Paris Fashion Week runway line up off the top of my head. Another point on my side of the tally? Don't mind if I do.

I have freelanced and catered for the campaign needs of magnanimous fairs organisers and headed a massive project, that was the first of my duties as deputy editor, putting together a 172 page travel publication for one of the most notoriously picky clients, in under two months. Working under pressure? Tick. Writing for an online audience? Tick. Dealing with PR agents and attending conferences? Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Please let me clarify at this point. I am not bullying Sky's decision. On the contrary. If I felt there had been an injustice (ah, maybe a little one, considering how ridiculously awesome I am) the tone of this post would have been ENTIRELY different.

My point is this: I am beyond qualified for this position. I understand and wholly appreciate the role extensive experience may play in a decision like this. I, however, am stuck in the purgatory that is the space of time between being considered a 'Graduate/Apprentice' applicant and a 'Young Professional'. What's with all the labels anyway? To be honest, considering the outstanding number of dedicated, creative, little fashionista bloggers, Im not all that surprised.

What I am, is disappointed.

Frankly, I feel I've been overlooked. I do not count this as an injustice because as the lovely Sky recruitment team noted in their email to me (and as above) they must get outstanding numbers of applications avalanching through daily, therefore logically, replying to every other failed applicant is not an option. Which leaves me at a crossroads.

Applications take time, applications take tremendous effort and as you would all know, rejection is draining. When (if ever) will I be considered good enough for Sky? Will someone tell me when I am right for them? Will I ever get the feedback I need to understand what it is I am lacking? If I seem such a bloody perfect fit for this particular application on paper, I must be missing something if I did not even get an inquisitive phone call?

I do not question my capabilities or my ambition. I do not question my inevitable success or my determination. I do not question Sky's professionalism and would still love the chance to work amidst their "culture of opportunity" and to be able to do "the best work of my life".

But where do I go from here? I am open to your suggestions.

Note: This is a wholly personal expression of experience and is in no way meant to dissuade/influence individuals' decisions to work with Sky. My job hunt is ongoing and this is by no means a white flag. And before any of you smart arses say anything, I am working applications faster and harder than a shearer with a hand piece in a scorching New Zealand summer. And I will continue to do so.

Ps. I will be moving from the blogspot address soon - too many glitches. Will keep you all posted.

Taking the Bull By the Horns

2010-08-29T00:41:00.001+03:00

It has been brought to my attention recently that I am a coaster. No, not the kind your mam puts on the coffee table to prevent glass rings.

Coast·er (kōˈstər)
noun

One that coasts, as:
a. One who acts in an aimless manner.
b. A sled or toboggan.

Seeing as I have never been on a sled and dont actually know what a toboggan is, we're good to assume that I mean option (a). One who acts in an aimless manner. I wont go into how much this realisation has upset me because to be honest, I've always known I was a coaster, and yet, I continue to coast. I think the hurt that has now surfaced and spurred me to confess my current state is the fact that it was brought to my attention by someone rather than in a moment of self reckoning.

aim·less (āmˈlĭs)
adjective

Devoid of direction or purpose.

I have GALLONS of potential. I know this. In the last three months alone I've met enough people, seen enough sights, completed enough tasks to last myself a lifetime of material for a blog like this.

I've been hosted by Mercedes-Benz on a trip to the bloody Dead Sea (its not actually bloody, its salty, I'm just cussing), test driving their latest SUV range, hence cruising one of the world's most frequented religious historic sites in royalty's ride of choice, i.e. the G-Wagen, amongst others (the lovely GLK features in the photo below). I drove past where King Herod used to live, in a motorcade of ten Mercedes-Benz, and trekked terrain that literally had me sending prayers up to Jesus, Mary and Joseph in fear of 30+ meter drops into rocky abyss.

I was whisked away by Qatar Airways for an inaugural flight launch to Copenhagen, Denmark. I stayed in a five star hotel that charged more a night than some people make in a month. I ate in restaurants that provided Arne Jacobsen cutlery for my perusal - knives, forks and spoons that cost 20,000 kroners a pop. I also partied with legendary Danish pop star Thomas Helmig and watched aerial artists spiral down lengths of curtain as I sipped on vintage champagne and feasted on black truffles.

I completed the Mazda London Triathlon. I trained on my own for months, and with a personal trainer for 7 weeks. I wanted to give up every single session and my back hurt, I got blisters, I cried whilst on a treadmill and fell off a stupid alien looking bike (it was a fantastic bike, but Im a noob) and hurt myself. I swam in the bloody Thames. THE THAMES. Like, the river, you know? I raised 500 pounds for a brilliant charity, YouthNet UK, and intend on doing so again next year. All in compression shorts.

In under a year I've worked a job that's seen me promoted to Deputy Editor of an international luxury lifestyle magazine, met influential figures like the Director General of UNESCO, Irina Bokova and Biz Stone, co-founder of Twitter to celebrity chefs, one of the original three tenors and developing relationships with global haute couturier's and jewelers alike.

I am also a masters graduate. With distinction, believe it or not. I have a degree in Social Change and Development, which ideally means I should be working a position that allows me to evaluate and analyse governmental initiatives in SouthEast Asia, i.e. the damming of the Narmada River in India. My thesis was actually based on the evaluation of the labour movement within the construction industry in Saudi. Like drawing blood from a stone, that research, I tell you.

What is my point?

I should not be described as aimless. I am not a coaster. I am much more.

I have enough interests to write a dozen books.

I LOVE to cook. I can identify spices as I eat and have a natural flair for the kitchen. I could name 30 odd chefs off the top of my head, their respective genre's, the shows they've hosted, my favourite dishes and which one's I've actually attempted and conquered. Or destroyed. I could spend hours in a supermarket and would rather go grocery shopping than for a beer at the pub (we can always do that later).

I am a music/movie/reading aficionado. I'll listen to/watch/read anything and have unhealthy love affairs with items I love. I could quote scenes from Lord of the Rings word for word and if you dont think that's impressive, I could do the same with Pan's Labyrinth. In Spanish. No, I dont understand Spanish. I could do the same with Vicky, Cristina Barcelona. I also have more song lyrics in my head than your average karaoke machine in its archives.

I need to put things into perspective and utilise all these wonderful things I've been given. It's one thing to experience and enjoy all of the above, and it's another to bring to life the lessons I've learned and the skills I've been fortunate enough to absorb.

I've just come up with a new commandment of my own: THOU SHALT NOT COAST.

Building A Cupboard

2010-08-25T13:28:00.000+03:00

I find myself feeling more and more like him each day. Words like conformity, expectations, norms, ignorance and indifference all crossed my mind as I watched that - and believe you me, not many YouTube videos can hold my attention for an entire 8 minutes (concentration span of a fruit fly). The thing is, like he understands - in his case - his parents' fear of difference, change and breaking free of the Life Manual, I can appreciate those of others.

I am, however, very much in that frame of mind where he walked into the shed and destroyed his 'perfect manual cupboard'. I am still angry, frustrated, confused and sadly, lost.

I was never much good at following instructions anyway. I will build MY OWN cupboard.

The Nicest Thing

2010-08-02T14:54:00.000+03:00

Beautiful song and one of a series of simple animations that bring some of my favourite songs to life. I'll post a couple more of the collection on here later. I know I've been MIA but life is hectic and I barely have the time much less the energy to post. No excuses. Regular service will resume mid August.

Number 8, 1949

2010-07-13T10:54:00.000+03:00

I used to think that life was an intricate series of levers and pulleys, buttons, wires, Mexican standoffs and hostage negotiations. As I get older I realize that life is more Netherlands minimalist than Jackson Pollock. The problems don’t get less, and in fact they grow greater in number, but the way I index them in the database is different. More problems get filed under fewer category headers.

Things are getting simpler, and it’s making life better. Here’s the cheat sheet.

People want to be liked. We all crave attention and affection and we all reject shame and embarrassment. We don’t want to be in a relationship to hear the words “I love you,” we want to be in a relationship to say the words “I love you.” We want to feel needed, and exceptional. We want to ace a hearing test. We are binary creatures; if we’re the plaintiff, we want to win every dollar. If we’re the defendant, we want guard every penny. We want to make more money than last year. We don’t want to get cancer and we want the same for our loved ones. We will mourn the death of strangers while secretly appreciating it wasn’t someone we knew. We go out on weekends to have sex while avoiding getting punched in the face. We drink so we can be ourselves and not mind it. We’re desperate to be understood. We want to know someone else has felt it first. We want to make the person we heard wasn’t all that into us change their minds about us and admit they had us wrong. We want sunny skies but with a chance of killer tornadoes, just to keep music sounding good. We take hours upon hours to admit to self consciousness. We don’t know exactly how to pleasure each other. We just want love. In any and every form.

Via johnmayer.com - I dont actually know who this person is, Im pretty damn sure it isn't the John Mayer that's waiting on the world to change.

Less is More?

2010-07-13T09:18:00.001+03:00

25 Things I’d Never Trade for Money

“The glow of one warm thought is to me worth more than money.” – Thomas Jefferson

A good friend.
A committed spouse.
A respectful child.
A loving hug.
A friendly neighbor.
Health.
Laughter.
Integrity.
A peaceful soul.
Self-confidence.
Contentment.
Significance.
Humility.
Freedom.
Reputation.
Faith.
Influence.
Self-discipline.
A clear conscience.
Overcoming a fear.
Conviction of purpose.
Opportunity to change.
Life-changing art.
A fulfilling career.
No regret.

Courtesy of Omar at chotoye.com via becomingminimalist.com

Lonely Planet

2010-07-08T12:06:00.001+03:00

I've always known that I have the attention span and focus of a fruit fly. I can be incredibly patient and tolerant of certain situations, particularly when the object/person in question is close to my heart. However, in saying that I have to be completely honest and say that a lot of the time I am incredibly flakey, change my mind far too much and am not the stubborn, determined person I'd like to think myself to be. When things get hard I often backtrack. Somehow I always manage to come out smelling like roses, because if the situation involves others I even remotely care about, I will not leave the situation without remedy. Its an incredibly frustrating habit, that need to please, to ensure everyone is happy, even if it often leaves me feeling hollow and much unlike the other party, incredibly dissatisfied and frustrated with the fact that I almost end up back at square one.

I dont know if this is making any sense at the moment, so Ill get to the point. I know I need to stop with the cowardice and laziness. Thats what it is really. There is no other explanation. I have the tools to do what I want, I have the knowledge to take me there and all I need is myself and this belief to be able to get that step further in my career/ relationships/ health, etc.

An example of this is my current situation with my triathlon training - sorry, I know Im going on about it a fair bit but I dont think many people realise how hard this is. No-one, not the people I live with, people I work with or my closest friends know how this feels. My colleagues constantly take the piss, others think Im 'overdoing' my 'workouts' and even my mate who's wedding I will attend as a bridesmaid is upset with me in intervals due to my lack of excitement over particular outings and my recent - and admitted - scatterbrained demeanour. Dont get me wrong, I dont blame anyone for their lack of acknowledgement. I know Im not going to get a pat on the back or an hour early off work so I can actually have some dinner before I workout or whatever, but its at this stage, when things get tough, and not just people's general attitudes, but my personal belief in my ability to complete the task at hand is shaken, this is when I backtrack.

Someone I look up to a great deal spoke with me about the direction of this blog only the other night. This is pretty much a whole lot of nothing thrown together with some pretty pictures, I know that. My dream is pretty clear to me though, and that is to work for the likes of Lonely Planet, writing for their magazine or traveler guide books. Why? Because I have so much love and passion for so many different things. I get obsessive and overtly emotional with things like music, the weather, people, food, languages, mannerisms, etc.

From a day I spent in London an odd 7 years ago, I remember things like the delicious, steaming baked potato I ate in some dingy alley, whilst trying to get some feeling back in my fingers, walking round the city gloveless in late December. A weekend I spent in Woolloomooloo (yes, its a real place. Its an Aboriginal name) has me dreaming about the incredibly salty anchovy pizza I feasted on in a cosy Italian restaurant where I was served by a young guy with awful tattoos, next door to one of the most charming bottle-o's I'd ever entered. There was also the hotel I stayed at with the lock on the front door, which when taking into consideration the terrifying block around the corner from the hotel with dozens of homeless people strewn around corners of abandoned houses, was not such a bad idea. Two streets down is pretty much the artisan, hippy heart of Sydney, rows of tiny, charming cafes, bookshops, antique stores, restaurants and galleries where I spent two of the best nights of my life in Australia. Tony and Bill's latte's at 1am, people watching as beautiful, arty folk waltzed past, with their charm bracelets, leather jackets and suede loafers as cliché Italian pop washed over the eclectic mix of people sipping on like latte's, espressos and deliciously creamy and crispy cannoli.

See what I mean? I can ramble for hours when it comes to travel. Nothing brings it all together like a trip abroad. The point? Why would Lonely Planet hire ME? What do I have that INCREDIBLE presenters like Toby Amies and Asha Gill dont? I've been wanting to write a mock script for the show and shoot a reel to send through to LP for months now. Months. And I still haven't done anything about it. I sit and dream. Is it cowardice? Is it laziness? What's holding me back? I just dont know.

Normal chirpy service will resume soon, promise. And if you scrolled through this and cant be fucked reading the entire bloody thing as I clearly have issues with sticking to a word count, please watch the video below. Ian Wright is my all time favourite Lonely Planet presenter. You can find clips of his travels with LP on Youtube. This is a clip of him doing a talk in NY about some of the funnier things he's come across as a presenter. Lucky bastard.

Dust Yourself off and Tri Again

2010-07-05T10:50:00.000+03:00

I find myself once again taking way too long a break between posts and I apologise, but in all honesty, I have been continuously exhausted for the past three months. Ever since training for the London Triathlon began, I have been between work, the gym and my bed. And not so much the latter, but the former two.

There aren't enough grains of sand in the day

Im not complaining, really. I enjoy my workouts, my trainer is an absolute legend (not to mention easy on the eyes) and I love my job - plus I work with lovely people who deal beautifully with my musical mood swings and ability to jump from Bowie to John Farnham within a 10 minute time frame) but I just don't seem to have any time for myself anymore. I mean, sure, there are the weekends, but by the time Im back from a two hour session - an hour with my trainer in the gym and an hour swim - Im pretty much toasted and all I want to do is crawl back into bed with a packet of Jaffa cakes, a hot chocolate and my newest copy of The Hobbit which I have been trying to finish reading for the last few MONTHS. Literally.

It has also come to my attention that many of my friends, colleagues and fellow bloggers are sadistic bastards. Why, you ask? Well, I have been asked more than once to blog about my training (jokes, I know you lot are trying to be supportive). But really, who wants to hear about my injuries, where my 5km running time stands at the moment and the different shades of bruises on my knees after interchanging sets of lunge thrusts and spider lifts? Not many of you, Im sure. There was even an obscene suggestion from a work colleague to have our in-house photographer tag along to one of my sessions and take 'animated shots' of me throughout. Umm, right. NO.

I am incredibly scared. I have moments of undeniable fear stricken panic, where I think to myself OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU FOOL, but then I take a deep breath, step back and... oh, wait. I do think Im an idiot for doing this.

Even Macaulay thinks Im crazy

I am 3000 different kinds of worried. I mean, I've been running for months, and the running leg of the comp really is the last of my worries, but the swimming and the cycling have me, quite literally, pooping (its too early to say shit*ing) my pants. My swimming is fine. Its not strong and its not dismal. But this is the bloody Thames. In August. I asked my trainer the other day if I could just brave the water without a wetsuit as a simple cossie would give me better mobility. He said I'd end up a popsicle and sink to the bottom like a dead weight. Not to mention I probably don't want someone's Friday night sick all over me as I thrash through that water with 300 other people. Yes, sets of 300 that are released 2 minutes apart from each other. I'd probably end up rocking up to the end mark after the last group had arrived.

CHAOS!!!

And then there's the cycling. Confession: I haven't cycled properly in years. Sure I've messed around with bikes before, but once again, this is a race. A 20km one round a circuit I have never seen before and will cycle amongst hundreds of others who are probably not even remotely concerned about two wheel transport.

Do you think I'd be allowed to ride this instead of a race bike?

There is a month to go. I know I will be ready, but right now, there is a sinking feeling in my gut about this endeavour and I just hope its last minute jitters. After all, I've gone into this without any previous race experience and Im really not the athlete everyone thinks me to be. Im merely trying to get through this race without rupturing a lung. So yea, that's all my rambling for now. Ill be back to Copenhagen dreaming and eco valley loving in the Dead Sea after this, I promise.

Dane-sing in the Street

2010-06-17T13:20:00.002+03:00

First off, sorry about the title of this entry. I couldn't help myself. Its in my editorial genes to take the piss out of everything. But not the 'hagen. Now, yesterday, whilst I was trying very hard to concentrate on the incredibly enjoyable task of conjuring up a variety of different slogans for our sister company's new ad campaign (corporate branding is just oh! so much fun - not my job but sometimes you have to take one for the team... specially when you've just been away on two all-expenses paid luxury trips with work) my mind wandered off to the task at hand; clearly I have difficulty with keeping written posts to a certain word count.

THEREFORE ladies and gentlemen, the genius inside me held up a beautifully lit lightbulb and said, 'Use images instead of words!' Hence, my darlings, here is a variety of shots chosen especially for your greedy little visual loving eyes and minds of the remains of day number on in Wonderful Copenhagen. With captions.

The site of our first Danish luncheon, Orangeriet. The most charming little restaurant in the world, located just next to the beautiful King's Garden

There were numerous potted mandarin trees inside the restaurant - it is called Orangeriet after all. One of the pleb journalists that was with us on the media tour decided to pick a couple off the plants. And ate them. And threw the peel in the pots. Im still wincing.

Window sill in the waiting room with views of the King's Garden outside. I loved the lightness and simplicity of Scandinavian design

We feasted on smorrebrod, or open faced Danish sandwiches - simple but delicious. The roast beef *drool*

Wheat beer! Not my first time tasting it, but this *was* the Danish counterpart

I think I clean up pretty good after a monstrous working day AND flight

Statue of literary genius Hans Christian Andersen in the King's Garden

Walking through town to the canal, I spotted this charming little balcony - should be lined with flowers

Views from the canal tour - Im not sure what the building on the left is, but on the right is the Church of Our Saviour. 400 steps to the steeple.

The spot on the canal where the royal family set sail

Noma - rated as the world's best restaurant and boasting the cream of Nordic cuisine in gorgeous settings

We hid from the sudden rain in this beautiful cafe, nestled in the courtyard of some castle

I love photos of flowers. There were bushes of these everywhere

The view from one of the rooms at Hotel Skt Petri, where we dined on asparagus soup, mouth watering pepper steak and chocolate creme brulee with cherry sorbet

Did I mention I loved Scandinavian design? Clean, bright, innovative. Fantastic.

There's something about Mary... and Copenhagen

2010-06-15T10:33:00.000+03:00

So, where were we last? Yes, packed and ready to go traipsing off into the wild jungles of... oh, wait. I was going to Copenhagen. What??

Glorious. Flag pole out at the entrance of the King's Garden

In all seriousness, I hadn't given Denmark a second thought in like... ever. Apart from the fact that their crown princess is a Tasmanian stunner, this little gem of a country never crossed my mind. Stereotypically, when one vacations in Europe, the regularly frequented spots are the likes of Italy, Spain, Greece, maybe venturing out to Eastern Europe for the really 'crazy' types. Scandinavia, I dunno.. maybe its just me but the last thing I ever wanted was to spend my summer in freezing temperatures (anything under 20 degrees is cold in my world) when I could be slathered in coconut oil and soaking up the sun on a sandy beach somewhere, perving at men in Calvin Jockey-like swim trunks al a Daniel Craig's baby blues.

Anyway, before I ramble on too much, let me tell you what a surprise Copenhagen gave me *deep sigh*

Champers, courtesy of standout airline, Qatar Airways

dropped off at the airport

briefing from Qatar Airways staff on facilities within their business/first class premium lounge.. they have sleeping cubicles. And a masseuse. And a fully equipped spa. And buffet(s). Really?

get on plane - business class rocks my world. Where were these seats when I was flying back and forth from Sydney, cramped up in economy with throbbing knees and the fear of developing deep vein thrombosis? I was served warm nuts, champagne and a salmon starter. I need to get rich.

an incredibly comfortable sleep later, BAM, we land in Copenhagen airport. Not much to say, not much to it really.

hello Thomas from VikingBus (yes, yes, I know). So far, its cold, Im not impressed. Now what? Thomas decides to drive us into Copenhagen city center using the highway route. Silly, considering later during the trip we take the beach route leading to the airport - a MUCH better first impression.

And speaking of first impressions... EVERYONE is on a bike. Umm... is this one of those places where absolutely everyone is incredibly healthy and beautiful and no-one is overweight? Yes. Yes it was.

arrived at the Kong Frederik hotel ( definitely worth checking out if you're looking to stay in Denmark for any number of days, one of the most charming hotels I've ever stayed at and part of the elite First Hotels chain - http://bit.ly/9V5zUT ) My room was, what I've labelled as, literature chic - pretty self explanatory really. Incredibly comfy bed, all amenities on offer, perfect.

Excuse my jeans and the mess I managed to make 3 minutes after walking into the room

The view to one side of my room - town hall and on the right hand corner, the magical Tivoli Gardens

The green tower head is only part of the Bank of Denmark building but I still found it charming - no people on the street, 8am

Get dressed, misjudge the weather due to the glaring sun outside and head out to lunch at Restaurant Orangeriet via, wait for it, bicycle taxi. Must we do this? I asked our tour guide. YES! You must! Answered the contagiously enthusiastic and all round charmer Henrik. Its the Danish way, he says. Fine. 7 minutes of severe frozen wind whiplash, sniffles and ducking to hide my now Copenhagen residing face from the gorgeous locals, swanning about gracefully on their cute bicycles, we reach Orangeriet, which is located in the King's Garden.

A sneak peak from one of the windows at Orangeriet and out onto the King's Gardens where a certain literary legend lives

Aaaaand that's all Im telling you until next time... and it'll be sooner than two weeks, I promise. Work has been hectic and I've been all over the place with business trips, deadlines and trying to stick to my triathlon training (the London Tri, yes. Also, yes, I AM insane). But for the sake of keeping these short *ahem* and sweet, I need to do this in batches and I really dont want to miss out on any of the magical details as it all deserves to be done justice.

So yeah, tune in next time for the fruit display stealing media scum that was with us on the trip, drinking ridiculous amounts of Snâps at lunch (not to be confused with Schnapps) and being rained on during an hour long canal tour, out on the.. erm.. canal, and dinner at one of Europe's first designer hotels, hosted by one of the most gorgeous men I had ever seen *deep breaths* Hai hai for now lovers!

Jeg elsker København

2010-06-02T11:42:00.001+03:00

Yes, I did what every wanker on the planet does and used Babel translator to transform the dull and overused phrase 'I love *insert person/place/pet/spotty, vampire-playing, teenage celebrity*' into I love Copenhagen in Danish. I do apologise for this behaviour, but in all honesty, I really do think I've fallen in love with that tiny and GORGEOUS city. Anywho, since most of you probably have no idea what Im on about, Im about to relay the events of probably one of the luckiest days of my working life thus far, so hold on to your socks, knickers and fake tache's; this is a riveting one:

Email *ping* on Regional Managing Editor *Jorge's computer. *Samson, *Mona and myself ignore this as we have become accustomed to Jorge's obnoxious mobile and computer ring/ alert tones.

Jorge: Well looky here, who wants to go to Copenhagen?

All three of us: *Insert collection of the 5 W's alongside oh me! No I cant! Dammit, I want to go! Really? Copenhagen? etc*

Jorge: Yup, Qatar Airways has just launched its direct route to Denmark and we've been offered a spot on their first media tour out there.
(Side note: This is purely because the airlines expects some sort of kiss ass in return, and to be completely honest, they deserve it much more than a cheek grazing kiss.)

This map is for the benefit of the embarrassing number of people who don't actually know where Denmark is. Yes, you.

Cue raucous arguments over who last went on what trip and when, discussions over magazine deadlines, who can afford to leave... and then it hits us. When is this mystery luxury, all expenses paid, beautiful thirst-quenching mirage set to take place??

Jorge: The flight leaves tonight. Its for five nights, return Saturday morning.

Samson: Agh, I can't leave the magazine. We're already behind on deadline.

Jorge: Neither can I - I was only in Seville last month the same time as deadline, and as much as Id love to scarper off to Scandinavia, I think that's pushing it a little *hearty, slightly bitter Welsh guffaw*

Mona: Dammit!! I want to go to Denmark! I can't go though, Im leaving to London on Thursday!

Me: Umm.... I'll go?

What? He can't go? Im not going either! (errm.. you know that's just for him, yea? Cool)

What ensued was an afternoon of restless 'work', a tiny evening run (I was afraid I wouldn't get the chance to keep up my tri training while I was abroad so the 20 minute run was a bit of a guilt compressor) and hectic packing for weather the organisers called 'chilly', my boss labeled as 'freezing' and the internet said ranged between 'below zero and 14 degrees'. Right.

And so began the best five days I have had in a long, long time. Possibly the best five days of my life if I was to be completely honest. However, I do have a habit of romanticising everything and developing irrational emotional attachments to places I visit, therefore this normal.

Stay tuned for the flight and day number one in Wonderful Copenhagen. There will be pictures.

*names have been changed for privacy issues and even though I know noone actually reads this blog, I dont want to get bitten in the ass by angry people who would have appreciated it had I NOT directly quoted them, thanks.

Bless His Ever Loving Heart

2010-05-09T14:35:00.003+03:00

For a bad ass, Nick Cave sure knows how to get the water works going. Everyone should have someone they can relate these lyrics to. I particularly like the the second verse, 'when it all comes down so bad and beauty lies exhausted in the streets'. I feel the lyrics apply heavily to the prospect of a trouble enduring love, which really isn't as fairytale-ridden as folks make it out to be. Hard work? I have no doubt. I wont go on, Im definitely not the authority on the subject. I do however, love love this tune. And count myself one of the lucky, lucky ones.

Bless his ever loving heart
Only he knows who you are
He may seem so very far
Bless his ever loving heart

And when you're feeling sad
And everywhere you look you can't believe the things you see
When it all comes down so bad
And beauty lies exhausted in the streets

Hold his ever loving hand
Even when you do not understand
Sorrow has its natural end
Hold his ever loving hand

And when you're feeling low
And everyone you meet you can't believe the things they say
When there's no place left to go
Where someone isn't moving you a little further down the way

Bless his ever loving heart
What you do is what you are
When it all comes down so hard
Bless his ever loving heart
Hold his ever loving hand
When it seems you ain’t got a friend

Only he knows who you are and what you are
Bless his ever loving heart
Bless his ever loving heart

- Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

For the Fallen

2010-04-24T19:38:00.002+03:00

Lest we forget.

Ode of Remembrance

They went with songs to the battle, they were young
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

It Must Be Love

2010-04-10T20:27:00.001+03:00

One of the best poems I've read, to date. Courtesy of superstar, Ben Adlam.

If it's good enough for Monet, then it's good enough for me.

After the Lunch

On Waterloo Bridge, where we said our goodbyes,
the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove
And try not to notice I've fallen in love.

On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink.
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?

On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair
I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care.
the head does its best but the heart is the boss-
I admit it before I am halfway across.

Wendy Cope

We Just Got Pulled Over

2010-04-06T12:11:00.004+03:00

An incident last night spurred some serious thought on my part surrounding the international facade, partaken by nations worldwide, that is multiculturalism.

It constantly saddens me to think what kind of world the children of my generation will live in.

I am a dual citizen of two of the most diverse countries worldwide. Australia's 22 million plus population boasts a richness in culture unlike any I have ever witnessed. The Australian Bureau of Statistics notes that every one minute and 46 seconds, the continent gains an international migrant. In 2006, over 24% of the entire residential Australian population was recorded as having been born outside the country. This number consisted of a combination of over 23 different backgrounds, with heavy influence from the United Kingdom, SouthEast Asia, Eastern Europe and the Middle East, respectively.

This is the reality but where is the acceptance?

The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, my second home, is also widely regarded as a multicultural landscape. In 2008, the CIA World Factbook noted that over 31.5% of the entire 6 million strong Jordanian population were actually of Palestinian descent. Superficially, our once neighbours live peacefully alongside smaller communities of Circassians, Chechens, Armenians and Kurds, that have also made a home for themselves in the Kingdom.

Mount Nebo, Bethany on the Jordan, Palestinian Territory - a symbol of religious peace amidst a world of turmoil

Yet this is exactly where my qualms lie. It is unknown for a nation to be undisrupted politically or economically for a prolonged period of time, I do appreciate this fact. However, I do not appreciate the prejudices that some nations embed in their people in due effect. Wether this is purposeful or not, the effect is detrimental to an entire nation, and like a relentless high tide, will eat away at the foundation slowly but surely, until it all crumbles. When it does, it will do so on the common people's heads, and not those in power. I do not understand how this goes on everyday, with the full recognition and awareness of likeminded people as myself, to no avail or material/significant changes by those with the authority to do so.

Shots from December 5th and the riots following the original assaults on the 4th

In 2005, a group of Australian lifeguards were assaulted on a beach in Cronulla on the New South Wales coast by a single individual of 'Middle Eastern' appearance. The next day thousands flocked to Cronulla protesting violence against 'locals'. Like attacks occurred during the weeks to come, with namely gangs of young men with Middle Eastern backgrounds and 'white' Australians coming to clashes over the events of the 4th of December.

In all honesty, I dont know who's holding the rifle and who's running from it - puts things into perspective

September 1970, or Black September as it is more commonly referred to, motioned for the urgent call to arms of the Jordanian military in quashing Palestinian movements within the country to gain political power. The conflict lasted almost 11 months, resulting in the deaths of thousands, the expulsion of the Palestinian Liberation Organisation from Jordan, and the immigration of thousands of refugees into Lebanese land.

I am a 23 year old woman, with dark hair and white skin. I've been told I have a Greek nose and people have guessed my nationality as a random mix of Spanish, Italian, Canadian, Lebanese and others I don't even remember. I am Australian. I am also Jordanian. I am by law, loyalty and gratitude entitled to the life and rights of any Australian and Jordanian. I have lived in neither for longer than a spell of six years at a time, however, the minute I step foot in either, I feel at home. It is a crime to rob anyone of this feeling of belonging due to race, religious affiliation or stereotypes.

A must read for any Australian, regardless of background

Indigenous Australians are the original inhabitants of the Australian continent and nearby islands. They are distinguished as either Aboriginal people or Torres Strait Islanders, who currently together make up about 2.7% of the population. Less than 3%. They are the real 'locals'.

I find a t-shirt for everything

Jordan was the first country to grant Palestinians citizenship post the Palestine War in 1948. Refugees were granted full use of public services and health care, creating a life for them outside allocated United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) camps and creating leeway for integration into the Jordanian community. Her Majesty, Queen Rania Al Abdullah, the current spouse of the King of Jordan and one of the most powerful women on the planet, was born in Kuwait to refugee Palestinian parents.

One of my favourite images, ever

Makes you think, doesn't it?

Soul Food - Not Fried Chicken

2010-04-06T10:01:00.000+03:00

This pic reminds me of that Roger Sanchez song, 'Another Chance'

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings

Inspired by Air

2010-04-05T14:49:00.001+03:00

Can I just say - and I know this is cheating because I should write more about this than I plan to - how much Im looking forward to watching The Virgin Suicides? I know Im over a decade late, but that doesn't make my excitement any less legitimate, thanks. The minute I have more than an hour to myself, this is what Im going to be glued to the screen for. Love, sex, passion, fear, obsession, religion, written by Sofia Coppola, with Kathleen Turner and James Woods - and I dont even like Kirsten Dunst but she does the naive, self destructive, innocence lost bit to a tee - all add up to a winning combination. So yeah, there's something Im looking forward to after the next two weeks of editorial torture are over. Good times.

Shoes and Other Beautiful Things

2010-03-31T13:02:00.003+03:00

Clothes may not fit, but shoes always look good.

Its noon on the Wednesday after my birthday. Im in a bit of a contemplative mood (what's new?), yet on the whole, this is turning out to be an alright kinda day. As always, I woke up about a dozen times during the night, check up on my phone, make sure no-one rang, texted, etc. This anxiety will be the death of me, I know it, but I can't seem to control it.

I've been sleeping a lot later than my usual recently, and waking up particularly early. A combination of personal pleasures (don't get pervy), stress and early 'working' days resulted in me sleeping through my alarm this morning. I can't comprehend how that even happened considering its on the shrillest ring tone known to man AND vibrates better than any toy on the market. Ended up driving to the bakery and buying brekkie for the office to keep the peace.

Had they not inhaled the goodies I bought, this would be an actual photo of brekkie. This is prettier.

This has to be one of the best birthday weeks I've had in a while. I got sent a lot of love and to be honest (albite a tad cliche) that to me is worth the most lavish gift - and more. However, because Im a girl and we like 'pretty things', I did also do some serious birthday spending. Shoes make me happy.

The things that made my week, however, came in the form of two heartfelt gifts from two beautiful people. The first you will think I am dramatizing. Its a t-shirt. Nothing spectacular mind you - just a cotton t-shirt. Its the thought that someone would devote any part of their day in making an effort to put a smile in your face, the thoughtful gesture and the care behind the action, that makes this number one on my list this year.

The second was a bouquet of beautiful pink and white, lilies and roses. My colleagues bombarded me with these late into the work day yesterday - I was initially surprised that it wasn't a cake, considering this is the norm in this office; any excuse is a good excuse for cake. However, and according to our secretary Michelle, *cue laughter*, 'you're always on a diet', so they bought me the flowers instead.

Absolutely beautiful. And my office now smells like a meadow.

Now, I love flowers. I haven't received nearly enough in my lifetime - not that the occasion didn't present itself, just never quite happened as often as I would have liked it to. Regardless, this was such a lovely surprise because of the thought that had been put into it by one little creative. I found out later that evening that she had gone out and picked the combination of flowers herself as to what she felt 'represented' me. She told me the way I dressed, the music I listened to and the vibe I brought into the office inspired her. I don't think I have ever been so flattered in my entire life.

These two things plus endless well wishes, a digital cake, a handmade birthday card, a singing voice clip and a surreal chat with a lovely sales lady have made this a week to remember.

This is all for now. I wish everyone out there (who actually reads this) a week just as motivational and inspiring as the one Im having.

That's me! Not in the photo, I meant Im the rookie of the year. I don't know who this bitch is and why she has my shirt.

p.s. I ran my first 10k this week too! Im proud of my rookie ass for taking me that far. Well done, me!

Carol is NOT a girls name

2010-03-02T21:24:00.001+03:00

Quite literally my new favourite 'person'. Fave quotes from 'Where the Wild Things Are' -

Alex, 'Hey KW, do you wanna be with us? We're baaaad.'
Carol, 'I'm just trying to eliminate the crazy.' Alex, 'Yea, I don't think the crazy's been eliminated.'
Carol, 'Do you know that feeling when your teeth start to fall out really slowly, and then you never realised that they're so far apart and that soon you'll have no teeth?' ... Max, 'Yeah...'.

BEAUTIFUL film. Watch it.

2010 - Bring me good things you bastard!

2010-01-12T10:25:00.002+03:00

Ok, so I've been tweeting. A lot. And through my twitter journey I've been lucky enough to come across some insane blogs - some really creative, entertaining, informative stuff. It really is inspiring to see what people are all about, but i guess thats what you get when ur an anthropologist at heart.

This post is in homage to a particular twitter peep who doesn't even know that i enjoy reading her blog - @loalexandra. The following list was inspired by you:

10 Things to look forward to in 2010

1. My job at the magazine taking off
2. Media summit in February
3. Getting fit - starting yoga?
4. Getting a raise
5. Summer
6. New music
7. Moving back to Australia
8. Visiting New York
9. Visiting Germany
10. Seeing old friends

Masquerade Ball

2009-12-14T12:53:00.002+03:00

See, what I cant stand are nations pretending to be something they're not. If you are a fundamentally extremist society for whatever reason, just do it. Don't pretend not to be that way. Do not pretend to be a a first world Paris if you are not Paris and you are not first world! Do not build seven star hotels and residential areas with rivers in between the walkways to look like Venice if you do not have the appropriate civil infrastructure to allow the population to drive there for goodness sake!

Do not tempt expatriates to come into the country and do your dirty work for you and then attempt to warp their lives into a style to fit yours. No dear nations, you must adjust to their style of living as they are the ones doing you the favour!

Do not pretend like you are concerned with education, the environment or health when half your public schools are understaffed and overbooked, most of your families own 4 plus cars and you do not allow mental health - the most important element in my opinion to ensure a healthy bodily state - the rights it deserves in primary health care.

DO NOT PRETEND!

In honour of Mustard Seed

2009-10-24T10:47:00.000+03:00

To celebrate the publishing of the very first comment on my blog (it HAS been up for a month, so its about time!) I am promoting the musical choices of the blogger responsible for all this excitement. Thanks Jesse! The following is Jesse's choice of song from the incredible Citizen Cope,'Bullet & a Target' followed by my song of choice by the same, 'Let the Drummer kick' - Not as recent BUT this particular clip is pretty cool too (thanks arturitis!) so let me know which you prefer! Voting kicks off now!